Scattered Piece
by Faux Reves
Summary: In North Basin Secondary, there are many kinds of people. People who hates their lives, their pasts, and all they stand for. These people are about to meet a certain LDM. AU High School Fic. Warning: M-Rated Mentions. Nothing Graphic.
1. The First Friend

Nobody should have a nose that long. It just shouldn't be possible. There was obviously no bone in it, or else it wouldn't bend that way. But if there was no bone, how was the nose able to stay stiff like that, without sagging? It was- it was…just…SO COOL!

Leroy had been sitting in homeroom for the past half hour, listening to the teacher drone on and on about the importance of writing in the school provided agendas, or was he talking about the evilness of cell phones. Whatever, it didn't really matter. What mattered, was that Leroy was bored and on the verge of screaming at the teacher if the man didn't shut up already. Luckily for the teacher, and the surrounding classmates (Leroy's shout was _very_ loud and _very_ high pitched) the teenager found something to occupy his mind.

That something happened to be the boy who was sitting across from him. The boy, who was obviously of African descent judging by his dark skin colour, was idly flicking at his impossibly long nose. Now, this usually wouldn't be such a big deal, but the boy's nose really was _long_ and it would bend up so high that the tip would touch the boy's forehead, when pushed. So obviously Leroy was amazed.

DING! DING! DING!

Finally! There was the bell signalling that homeroom was over. The teacher was yelling over the students' voices, something about no dawdling in the hallways, but Leroy paid him no mind. Instead he quickly stationed himself in front of the long nosed boy with a newfound determination.

Leroy reached his hand out and…that nose truly was INCREDIBLE! It really was as bendy as it looked! And turned out, it did have a bone since it was slightly hard in the middle. But further investigations proved that the bone was bendy too! Unfortunately for Leroy his examinations of the long nosed boy's nose were quickly cut to an end.

"What the heck are you doing?" The boy exclaimed, swatting Leroy's hand away from his nose.

Leroy could only reply with a wide adoration filled eyes, and a gushing compliment, "Your nose is so cool!"

With a gigantic grin Leroy slammed both hands, face down onto the table and continued, "Let's be friends!"

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><p><strong>I'd like to say that none of the main characters in this fic will be OC's. And I am quite sure that the majority of you will have guessed who Leroy is by now. If not, really? And you call yourself an OP fan! Also regarding the chapters, I think that they will most likely stay short simply because I have a terrible attention span and highly doubt that I can write 5000 words for one chapter. That might change, that might not. Either way, I hope you enjoyed what I wrote so far. Please do review. It's much appreciated. <strong>


	2. Names Are Titles Which Are Labels

**So since I finished the first arc of this story, I'm going back and revising what I've written so far. I actually cringe while reading this. Uhg. So yeah, expect better grammar, spelling, descriptions, and heck maybe even longer chapters. (I wanna try actually writing out the fighting scene instead of implying it.) So, don't expect any new chapters soon, but please do drop by and see if any major changes were made! :D**

**This chapter was revised.**

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><p>"You can't just go up to someone and ask to be there friend!"<p>

Leroy and his new-not-yet-friend were walking down the crowded hallway towards their next class. The long nosed boy was trying to explain to Leroy the basics of friend making that did not include sudden bluntness. He wasn't getting it.

"Why not?"

"Because that's just weird! You have to get to know them first…and stuff."

Leroy huffed, "Well that's stupid. All I have to know is if I like you, and that's that."

The boy looked at Leroy startled by the proclamation, "Like me? You don't even know me!"

"I don't need to know you to like you. I think your funny, so I like you." Leroy countered stubbornly.

"You should at least know my name before you can say you like me!" The boy exclaimed, exasperated. He continued to walk but looked back to see that Leroy wasn't following him.

"You're right." Leroy said with a pair of widened eyes. "I haven't introduced myself yet."

The boy was exasperated. The name thing wasn't such a big deal. "Hey, it's okay that you haven't-"

"I'm Leroy Damien McHale!" Said boy interrupted loudly and ignoring any earlier lectures, stated, "Let's be friends!"

The long nose boy smacked his own forehead in frustration. "That's not how it works! And you still don't know my name!"

"Well that's not my fault. How am I supposed to know if you haven't told me yet?" Leroy pouted.

The boy blinked, "Oh, right…in that case," he pointed to himself with a thumb, "the name's Gheisbert, Michael Gheisbert."

Leroy couldn't hold back his snort as he tripped over his two left feet.

"What's so funny?" Michael asked irritably; this new "friend" of his was really getting on his nerves.

"You're name!" Leroy chuckled."What kind of name is Gheisbert?"

"Yeah well, at least it's not my first name that sucks. _Leroy_ sounds like it belongs to some old guy from the 50s!" Michael backfired.

"Hey! My name doesn't…okay. You're actually right about that. Leroy is a sucky name." Leroy sulked.

"Haha! The Great Michael is always right!" Michael then turned to look at Leory inquisitively. "Why not change it then? If you hate your name that much."

"You have to be eighteen to change it without parental permission. And my mum was the one who named me, apparently it's a _pristine _name , what ever that means. so I guess I'll have to wait three more years for any changes. Plus, I haven't found the perfect name yet."

"Well three years isn't that long of a wait. And what about Adrian? That's cool, and it rhymes with your middle name!"

"Adrian Damien Leroy…it does rhyme but the name has to start with an L"

"How come?"

"Because that's the way it should be."

"…okay…then Lawrence?"

"No."

"Lance?"

"That's even worse."

"Luther?"

"I'm not a fan of Superman."

"Lex?"

"I just said I don't like Superman."

'Touchy, touchy! How about, Lacy? And who doesn't like Superman?"

"First of all, his fights are all boring, and if he has the power of flight why would he wanna stay in one city and not explore the whole word! Also, I'm pretty sure Lacy's a girl's name."

"Okay, I kinda agree with you on Superman...but that's beside the point! Oh, and the name Lacy can actually be used for both. But that's obviously out of question judging by that look you're giving me. So why not-"

"No, no, no!" Leroy shook his head and stopped walking again. "None of those names are right. They're too normal, too unoriginal, too boring! I need something cool, something different. I need something that's out of this world!"

"Well I can't help you with that." Michael said glancing at a clock situated on the cracked, yellow wall, "Class is about to start and we're going to be late."

Leroy sighed, "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am." Michael smirked. "And lucky for me, you stopped right in front of my English classroom."

"Oh." Leroy looked into the badly lit room Michael was pointing at before taking out his own timetable. "I don't have English next, I have Math…have any idea where room 1827 is?"

"Yeah, it's just down the corner, to the left." Michael said pointing in the right direction. "You can't miss it. It's the one with Mr. Ham, the teacher who ought to be a gym teacher by the way he dresses."

Leroy laughed, "He sounds cool!"

"Yeah, he's not. Believe me." Michael chuckled.

"Well anyways, I'll see you after class Michael!" Leroy said, while jogging off to Math before the bell rang.

Michael smiled, "Sure, see y- wait no!" Leroy was quite far now so Michael had to shout, "We're not friends!"

Leroy's only reply was a chuckle and "Yeah, right!"

A couple of the students in the now empty hallway were staring at the long nosed boy for yelling like that. Embarrased, he quickly ducked into the classroom before the bell rang. Regardless of all he said, Michael was wearing a small smile on his face.

"This year ought to be interesting." He muttered to himself.


	3. Two Faced Sirens

**Wooohoo! This chapter (content only, not a/n) is officially 2,001 words! My first chapter in this story to have a 2000 word count! Yay! The unedited version of this chapter was only 1278 words, so I added quite a bit! I basically just gave it more details and a better description of the fight...like seriously, the first thing I wrote was utter crap. Here for the sake of comparison I'm going to put up that one paragraph I originally had, then when you lot (hopefully) read the new version you'll see a major difference! :D So here's the original fight scene:**

With a frustrated scream the girl lunged at the red head. The red head quickly got up and moved out of reach. But the girl was crazy and angry, so she lunged again, this time reaching her target and proceeded to punch the red head, anywhere her fists would meet. The red head responded by crouching down to her knees and doing a spinning kick so that the girl would fall. The red head the quickly jumped up and gave a well aimed kick to the girls stomach. She was about to attack again when she was suddenly pulled back by a teacher.

**Yeah...I only had one sucky paragraph for it...now I have like four! :D Well, I hope you guys enjoy the better writing! I plan on fixing pretty much every chapter so far! So look forward to better writing! **

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><p>Leroy was adjusting to his new school, North Basin Secondary, quite well. A week had passed and he was only behind on eight homework assignments, failed two out of two pop quizzes, had gotten detention only three times so far, and had beaten up a total of four bullies. Yes, it had been a very good week.<p>

At the moment, Leroy was sitting in a bustling school cafeteria with Michael and a couple other classmates. They were having a debate about the merits of video gaming, and Leroy couldn't be more bored. He honestly had only played two video games in his entire life, both of them being from the Mario series. And when he said so, the gangly boy was subjected to a mix of contempt and pity.

"-and endurance! Sitting on your ass for six hours, in the same position, isn't an easy thing to do! Playing video games helps increase your endurance!" One incredibly pale boy was shouting.

Another replied with, "Yeah right! Sitting still doesn't mean you have endurance! That rule only applies to the Wii and Kinect!"

And of course someone had to object to that as well because the Kinect hardly had any attention-for-six-hours-straight worthy video games out yet. But Leroy, being the one who was bored and uncaring, tuned them all out in favour of going to the cafeteria's lunch line to get some desert. Michael took notice of this and tagged along.

"The guys are great but their...enthusiasm, for video games is way to hyper for my taste." Michael said grimacing as he pushed his way through a little crowd of grade eighters.

"I didn't even know half of the things they were talking about." Leroy pouted, "Like, what the heck is a wee?"

"You don't know- wait never mind." Michael shook his head and muttered, "I should expect as much from you by now."

Then turning to face Leroy with a quirk adorning the corner of his lips Michael asked, "So, what 'cha getting anyways?"

"I'unno," Leroy stood on his tip-toes, peering over the endless mass of heads blocking his view of the buffet table. "I think they have pecan pie."

"Those'r always good, but if they have the lemon tarts instead, do _not_ get them. They. Are. Disgusting." Michael scrunched up his face as to emphasize his disgust.

Chuckling at the funny face Michael was making, Leroy didn't quite take caution to his warning. Obviously Michael was exaggerating because everyone knew that it was impossible for food to be disgusting. It was food. The taller boy was about to tell Michael of this obvious fact when he was interrupted by an angry shout.

"YOU GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING BITCH!"

Both Michael, Leroy, and all of the other heads in the cafeteria spun to face the direction of the yell. Their gazes landed on a pretty girl yelling her head off. Said girl was spitting obscene words to a slender red head. The red head, meanwhile, just sat on the bench, looking up at the girl in mild amusement. She hadn't even bothered to stop sipping her juice out of a little cardboard box.

"First Amanda, then Roxanne and now me? Seriously? How much of a slut are you! I bet there isn't a single boy in this room you haven't whored yourself out to!" The angry girl, who according to Michael was named Samantha, bellowed.

Oddly enough the red head, whom Michael had named Renee, only laughed in reply while putting down her juice box, "Now that's an exaggeration and you know it. And about your boyfriend, it's your own fault. Maybe if you weren't such a prude in bed he wouldn't have come crying to me for a tit fuck. And me being such a kind, and generous soul, obviously agreed." The red head smirked with a taunting tilt to her head.

Amanda immediately lost all sense of reason once the statement reached her ears. The girl lunged forward to straddle Renee in her seat. Then, grabbing a fistful of the red head's hair, Amanda proceeded to smash Renee's head down onto the table below her with a sickening crack. The Fury incarnated raised a fist to punch Renee in the nose, but was instead pushed away and thrown to the floor.

Raising from her seat, Renee tenderly patted the back of her head to make certain that there were no serious injuries. Once that was quickly confirmed, she looked down at the pathetic girl sprawled below her. Renee really didn't want to resort to violence, it didn't make her look good, so instead she bent her knees so that she was staring Amanda at eye level. Seeing the anguish in the other girls face Renee smirked and whispered something only heard between the two. Unfortunately, Amanda did not react to Renee's quiet threat as was expected. "Go ahead! You think I give a rat's ass anymore? Tell them! Tell them all!" Amanda jumped to her feet and was now shouting to the ceiling and throwing her arms about. "No, I'll tell them. You'd like that wouldn't you, being the scheming bitch you are!"

The girl then proceeded to grab some poor random eighth grader out of the crowd and screamed in his face, "I once fucked a dog for a thousand bucks!"

Swiveling around to face Renee once again, either not taking notice of or ignoring all of the disgusted looks she was now receiving, Amanda exclaimed, "There you happy now! It's out and I don't care! You already ruined my life, what could this possibly change? And, know what? I swear to God that I will slice that pretty little throat of yours, until it's as thin as paper, one day!"

The inhabitants of the cafeteria were stunned silent. Everyone knew that violent threats were an actual offence; without a doubt Amanda was going to be expelled because of that and maybe even face some time doing community service. Apparently things were getting serious...except Renee didn't quite get that note. Unlike the rest who were wide eyed with shock, Renee just snorted out a hysterical laugh, "Oh this is just too good. I can't believe you did that!" She wiped some tears out of her eyes, "How much of an idiot are you?" She grinned cheekily, "Oh, and thank you for the compliment. I know, my neck is really pretty."

With a primitively brutal cry Amanda charged towards Renee. Using her entire body weight she shoved the red head to the floor. Quickly regaining her balance, Amanda stood over a fallen Renee and kicked her in the ribs with one hard jab. "Fucking," kick, "bitch." Kick "You think," kick, "you can," kick, "get away with" kick, "this. I'm gonna," kick, "fucking kill you!" ki- it seemed that last kick didn't reach Renee as the red head felt she had taken enough abuse all ready.

In retribution Renee quickly rolled away from Amanda's reach and jumped to her feet. Glaring venemously at the other girl, Renee lunged forward and got close enough to punch Amanda in the stomache, hard. Amanda in return gagged at the painful force and stumbled back. Breathing heavily, with dialated pupils, she she contorted her lips into an ugly scowl. "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!" Amanda yelled, before charging at Renee once again, but this time the red head was ready.

Renee made sure to land on her feet with her legs crouched, when Amanda had pushed her down the second time. Placing one hand on the ground as to stabalize her balance, Renee thrust a leg out straight. Then, sweeping it over the ground in a wide arch, Renee effectively managed to hit Amanda's ankles, resulting in the girl to lose balance and fall to the ground. Once Amanda hit the ground Renee jumped forward so that she was atop the girl. Raising a fist, Renee brought it crashing down on Amanda's nose. The red head raised her fist once again, this time to attack the other girl's cheek bone instead.

"What the hell is going on over here!" A rumbling voice, accompanied by a large hand that was pulling her away from Amanda, startled Renee. Looking up to see who had so rudely interrupted her _conversation_, Renee saw that it was the principal, Mr. Woodenmeyer himself. _Oh, shit._

The man looked down at the red head balefuly, but the look quickly turned to one of suprise when he registered just who he was glaring at. "Renee?"

Thinking fast, Reneee put on a pitiful face and whimpered, "She attacked me first sir. I was only defending my self."

Mr. Woodenmeyer looked skeptic. "It didn't really look that way to me."

Renee, looking sheepish replied, "I may have gotten a bit out of hand." She looked up with the most innocent expression she could conjure, "But you should have heard everything she was saying to me before. She called me a bitch,a whore, a fucker and, and-" Renee broke out into _heartbreaking_ tears and huddled closer to the principal.

"God, you're such a fucking liar. I bet you're just going to suck up to Woodenmeyer here, before you actually suck him off in his office." Amanda spat while being held in place by the school janitor Martin, just in case another fight broke out.

Renee threw the girl a withering glare that embodied hate itself as Mr. Woodenmeyer hastily put some distance between himself and the red head. Then, clearing his throat he sternly reprimanded, "Samantha, I will not have that kind of talk in my school." He narrowed his eyes at the smirk now adorning Renee's face, "Nor will I have any violence here either." Renee paled slightly. "My office. Now." He glared at Renee, "Both of you." Mr. Woodenmeyer then proceeded to stalk out of the cafeteria, with Renee, Amanda, and Martin who was still had a steady hold on Amanda.

Standing in the fringe of the crowd, where he had a spectacular sight of the fight, Michael's gaze trailed after the group. "Wow. That's not something you see every day. Eh, Leroy- Leroy?"

Michael darted his gaze back and forth until he finally found Leroy. The boy was quickly jogging up to Renee, who had not yet left the cafeteria. "Hey! You!" Leroy called while waving what seemed to be a wallet over his head. "You dropped this." The boy explained as he held out the accessory to a befuddled Renee.

The red head stared at Leroy in astonishment for a moment, before snatching the wallet from his hand. With a sneer she stalked off, wanting nothing to do with the boy. But before Renee could step outside the cafeteria's double doors, Leroy called, "Oh, and the by the way! That was a real strong move you have! You should teach me that spin kick thingy you did on the ground, some day!"

Renee whipped her head back to stare incredulously at the tall, slightly arab looking boy, who was now grinning at her like he had won the lottery. "What the hell?" She muttered to herself before allowing Mr. Woodenmeyer, who had walked back after noticing that Renee was not with them, drag her towards the office.

Michael, now at Leroy's side, was about to ask the same question that Renee muttered. But Leroy, with his head tilted slightly to the side and eyes brimming with confusion, quickly interrupted by asking, "What's a tit fuck?"

_Obviously_, Michael thought to himself while groaning out loud.


	4. Karma is a Bitch

**Yay, this one went from 867 words to 1035! Woot! Woot! So, I just fixed some typos here, grammar structure tweaking, and added a couple details / descriptions here and there. Nothing major...though I did get a higher word count. :P (again not including a/n...never including a/n)**

**So, read, review, enjoy!**

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><p>Renee was quite lucky. All she got from the cafeteria fiasco was a two week in-school suspension and was being forced to be a peer tutor for the rest of the semester. Ms. I'm-into-bestiality on the other hand was expelled. Not bad, not bad at all. Except for the peer tutoring; Renee absolutely loathed dealing with idiotic morons who couldn't understand simple high school math. People like them shouldn't even bother to come to school, but nonetheless, she was being forced to tutor them. So tutor them she shall.<p>

"What do you mean everyday? Isn't peer tutoring only supposed to be on Mondays and Fridays?" A flabbergasted Renee questioned the principal leaning against the edge of a table in the empty classroom.

Mr. Woodenmeyer smirked, "Well, Ms. Hofstadter, you are quite the special case."

Renee clenched her teeth in defeat and glared at the devil in disguise, "Well, where are they anyways?"

Mr. Woodenmeyer blinked at the sudden change in conversation, "Your students?" he looked down at his watch, "They should be here soon."

And as fate would have it the door opened right that moment with a _creak._ Through the entryway walked in a pale and gaunt young man with shaggy, jet black hair that was adorned with ugly blue streaks. Both colours were obviously fake.

"You've got to be kidding me." Renee muttered to herself in fear.

Mr. Woodenmeyer looked down at the red head in surprise, "You know him?"

"Know him? Know him? Of course I know him! Everyone knows him! He's, he's..." Renee tore her gaze away from the teenager and spat venomously at Mr. Woodenmeyer, "Do you want me to die?"

Mr. Woodenmeyer chuckled, "You're exaggerating Renee." Then out loud, so the gaunt boy was included in the conversation, said, "Renee, I'd like to you to meet Mr. Gregory Winston." He pointed to the boy, then at Renee "And Greg, this is your peer tutor. Ms. Renee Hofstadter."

"Hn." Greg grunted in reply, as he took a seat by the rectangular table.

Mr. Woodenmeyer looked back down at his watch, then the door once again, "I'm pretty sure there was supposed to be another student. I wonder where he is?" And yet again, right at that moment, said student came walking through the door.

Renee gazed astonishingly at Mr. Woodenmeyer wondering how he did that (was it coincident or special voodoo powers?), before turning to asses her other charge. The red head had to take a double take when she saw who it was.

"You!" She gasped pointing at the tall, scrawny boy wearing a grin so wide that it could make even the Cheshire Cat run for his money.

"Hey! You're not suspended anymore!" The boy replied.

The principal gave Renee an indulgent smile, "Isn't that nice? You get to spend time with your friends after school _and_ serve your punishment."

"He's not my friend!" Renee exclaimed, pointing towards the happy-go-lucky boy, "I don't know him!"

"I'm Leroy Damien McHale." Leroy said confidently eyes shining, "Are you being tutored as well?"

Renee was offended, "What? Of course not! I'm the tutor! The tutor!" Honestly, being categorized in the same group as these _Neanderthals_ was so not making this day any better for Renee.

"Oh." The smile had slipped off of Leroy's face but it was to be quickly replaced with a laugh, "Then that must mean you're really smart!"

"Yes I'm smart! And why are you laughing, there's no reason to be-"

"I don't need to be tutored. I'm smart as well." That blunt statement came from Greg. The other occupants in the room, not including Leroy as he was still laughing for some reason, turned to stare incredulously at goth.

"Son...you barely passed tenth grade with a fifty-two percent average." Mr. Woodenmeyer said carefully.

"..." Greg looked on silently for a moment, "But isn't that an A?"

The principal looked at Renee with a sad smile, "I rest my case." Then turning to both Leroy and Greg he said, "Both of you will be coming to this room every day after school for a two hour tutoring session. There will be no ifs, ands, or buts. You start right now. I'll come by in an hour to see how you're doing."

Mr. Woodenmeyer turned to leave, "Also, anyone who skips these sessions without a valid note, will be immediately expelled." He looked imploringly at Renee, "And that rule includes the tutor as well."

Leroy was still laughing as he finally took his seat...on the floor. Greg and Renee meanwhile, just stared at Mr. Woodenmeyers retreating back.

"Would you shut up already?" Renee snapped at Leroy who immediately stopped laughing. "And why aren't you sitting in a chair?"

Leroy gulped before adorning yet another smile and turning to his peer. "More comfortable." Renee had no idea how that was possible. Regardless, Leroy quickly transferred his attention to Greg. "So, what's your name."

"Greg." Greg grunted.

Leroy blink and with a slight frown bluntly said, "Your name doesn't suit you. And neither does your hair. It's actually really ugly."

Renee stared at Leroy in horror. Oh god, she thought, he's in for it now. My first day and one of my charges are already dead. Damn it!

But Greg didn't take out the guns, both figuratively and literally. Instead he pulled at a strand of his hair and calmly replied, "You're right. Some idiot told me that I would look good with black hair. But I didn't. Then they figured that putting in random streaks would make it look better. But it didn't."

"Why not change it back then?" Leroy asked, somehow making the conversation seem almost _normal._

"Too much work." Greg replied, as though that explained everything in the world.


	5. Always Judge a Book by its Cover

Greg Winston was famous in school for his reputation of being a dope smoking, alcoholic, thug. It was rumoured that he was part of a gang, illegally trafficking sex slaves and was counterfeiting hundred dollar bills in his basement. Of course, none of these crimes were true, they were just too preposterous, but Renee was starting to doubt her usually level headed judgement.

It was the end of the week and she had been tutoring Greg and Leroy for five days now. Unfortunately, she was getting nowhere. Leroy would try to learn something, then forget it all the next day. And Greg, well, she was too scared of Greg to really try to force anything into him.

On that first day, when Greg and Leroy just met, she had thought that maybe the boy was just misunderstood. The way he spoke with Leroy made him seem normal and actually pretty funny. But that assumption was quickly thrown into the garbage by the second day when he came to the session in a foul mood.

His eyes were sunken deep in, from what seemed to be a lack of sleep. But they were till sharp, and would glare at you if you even tried to say a word to their owner. The lack of sleep was complimented with numerous _yawns _and one time during the week, Greg actually fell asleep. Renee then made the big mistake of trying to wake him up because Mr. Woodenmeyer's was going to walk through the door any minute. So, she had simply reached over to shake his shoulder slightly, when he suddenly grabbed her wrist, twisted her arm, and jerked her out of her seat and onto the floor. He would have probably started to pummel her with his fists if Leroy hadn't finally come out of his daze and interrupted, "Are you guys fighting?"

Greg had looked Leroy in the eye before letting go of Renee's arm. She slumped onto the floor and quickly scooted over, away from the menace. Greg replaced Leroy's gaze with Renee's and said, "Don't ever touch me ."

Renee hastily nodded while nursing her bruised arm. Oh yeah, she would _not_ be touching him any time soon. The guy was crazy! She should not be the one cursed to take care of him! And she could smell the crack on him! He was probably smoking the poison before her tuition! Again, it shouldn't be her problem, damn it!

But Mr. Woodenmeyer hated her, so she was still sitting in an almost empty classroom, wasting her Friday afternoon trying to teach Kinetic Molecular Theory to a sleeping serial killer and an idiot who was still chuckling under his breath for some reason..

Renee was really starting to consider suicide as an option, if it would only take her away from all these devils in her life.


	6. Routines Are Not Meant to be Broken

**No real changes in this one except...I made Luffy FROWN! And he didn't even know if anything was wrong yet! Luffy shouldn't be frowning yet! GAAAHHH! That's too OOC! Whoo...thank God I fixed it. O_O**

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><p>Greg had already left. They had been waiting for Renee to show up for the past half hour, and Greg had had his fill. So he left, but Leroy waited.<p>

Leroy knew that Renee wasn't the type to skip their lessons. She had been coming on time to every single one of these sessions the past two months. It could be assumed that the reason was simply because she didn't want an expulsion, but Leroy liked to believe that while Renee had been somewhat aloof and bossy before, she had loosened up. Well, she was still as bossy, but no longer aloof. At least not with Leroy; she seemed to always have her guard up around Greg.

But facts don't lie, and this time the facts were saying that there were only five minutes until Mr. Woodenmeyer came in and Renee was still a no go. This puzzled Leroy, he was so sure he had seen Renee at her locker after school. She was supposed to come straight to the classroom for their lessons, right after.

"Hey! I saw Greg wandering the halls. Are you guys out early today?"

Lero,y startled by the sudden interruption from his thoughts, looked up to see Michael poking his head through the door frame.

"No. It's just that Renee hasn't shown up yet." Leroy chuckled, "And what are you doing here so late?"

"Just got out of detention. I had to help Martin, the janitor, clean up the science lab."

"Why?"

Michael grimaced. "I kinda got carried away during a class experiment last block."

Leroy laughed, "You mean the one with the purple and orange water?"

"Err…yeah, that one."

"What did you do?"

"…I poured the mixture into a balloon that was in my pocket…it exploded…"

Leroy went hysterical at that confession. He was rolling on the floor, spilling his guts, by the time Mr. Woodenmeyer walked in.

"Doesn't look like much studying is going on here." The man stated, disapprovingly.

Leroy gasped for his breath, "Renee…gone…Greg…left…I….science…explosions…" The teenager fell into another fit of hysterical laughter, so Mr. Woodenmeyer looked towards Michael for an explanation instead.

"Well…Renee seems to have skipped-"

"She didn't skip." That statement came from Leroy, who was now obviously laughter-free enough to be serious.

"And what makes you think that, Leroy?" Mr. Woodenmeyer asked.

"She cares too much about school to risk an expulsion."

The principal pondered that for a moment, "True…something must have come up then."

He looked at the young boy sprawled on the floor, looking entirely out of character. Mr. Woodenmeyer had come to know Leroy quite well, and knew that he was never serious nor worried. And yet, today, he was both. Wanting to ease this strange tension the principal said, "I'm sure that we'll find out what happened by tomorrow. It's probably nothing serious. Don't worry."

Leroy stared Mr. Woodenmeyer in the eye, and the older man knew that Leroy could see the anxiety hidden underneath his 'reassuring' smile. But Leroy made no comment on this fact, he only nodded once affirmatively.

"Well, since there's no one to teach today, does that mean we can leave now?"

Mr. Woodenmeyer turned to Michael and raised his eyebrows, "Last I checked Mr. Gheisbert you were not under any obligation to be here, in the first place."

Michael blushed, "Yeah, err- I meant Leroy. Can he leave yet?"

Mr. Woodenmeyer chuckled, "Since the two off you seem so eager to be rid of me," Leroy was already halfway out the door, "I don't see why not. But, remember Leroy! There's still lessons after school tomorrow. Renee should be back by then."

The grown up wasn't quite sure the teenager had heard what he said; Leroy was already at the end of the corridor when he exclaimed his reminder. But, that didn't really matter. One thing Mr. Woodenmeyer had come to know about Leroy, was that he never broke a promise he was serious about.


	7. Connections and Communications

Michael was practically racing down the empty hallway, trying to catch up to Leroy. The other boy was apparently heading towards the office, for reasons unknown to him, and every time the African would ask, no answer would be given in reply. Leroy was, uncharacteristically, lost in thought. So, it wasn't until they finally stood in front of the large office window that the long nose's confusions were put to rest.

"I want Renee Hofstadter's home address."

Ms. Bains, the young secretary, looked up and her fleeting look of puzzlement was quickly masked by one of cool professionalism. "I'm sorry, but I do not have the authority to give out the personal information of a student to an unrelated individual."

Leroy blinked, processing the words, "But I'm not an 'unrelated individual'! I'm her friend-"

Michael widened his eyes in surprise, "You are?"

Leroy snapped at Michael, "Yes. Yes I am, and you are too." Before turning back to the secretary, "And I think she's in trouble. I just want to make sure that she's okay!"

Ms. Bains raised her brows, "And what makes you so sure she needs your help."

Michael, knowing quite well that Leroy was going to start spouting nonsense about how he _just knew_, gave a logical explanation, "She's his peer tutor and hasn't missed a session without note for the past two months. So, since she suddenly went missing today, he-" Michael pointed at Leroy, "freaked."

Biting her lower lip Ms. Bains sighed, "I still can't give you the address. But…I guess a phone number wouldn't hurt anybody."

Leroy's face morphed into a gigantic grin, "Thanks lady!"

The secretary returned the contagious smile and pointed to the name tag pinned to her chest, "Ms. Bains will do." Then she turned to her computer and began typing away.

"This won't take long will it?" Leroy whined.

The secretary shook her head, "Of course not. I just have to add in some information- you wouldn't happen to know her student number, would you?"

When both boys shook their heads she muttered, "That's what I thought." and continued typing but paused to ask, "Hofstadter is with a D right?"

"I think so." Michael replied.

Ms. Bains only typed for a few more seconds before she finally got Renee's profile pulled up.

"Well, isn't she a pretty girl." the secretary said, taking a look at Renee's student picture. "Now then, phone number. Phone number…"

Ms. Bains stared at the monitor for a moment before muttering, "That's odd."

And Leroy, being the ever observant one, exclaimed, "Odd? What's odd?"

Ms. Bains turned to the students, "I'm afraid I can't help you." She ignored the cries of disbelief and continued, "Ms. Hofstadter doesn't have any phone numbers listed with the school. In fact, the only form of communication is her address." Taking a look at Leroy's face she also added, "Which I am still not allowed to give you. I guess, you'll just have to wait for tomorrow. She'll probably turn up by then."

"But, but, you can't do that!" Leroy cried, "Come on! You've gotta help us! Please?"

The secretary was about to reply when she was interrupted by a co-worker. After a brief chat she turned to the boys and said, "There's nothing I can do to help you two. Now, if you will excuse me. Since I happen to be the last one in the office, it's my turn to lock up…now where did I put those blasted keys."

The secretary turned away from the desk and walked into another room in the office, looking for her keys. Leroy noticed that she had failed to shut down her computer, and it was still open to Renee's profile page. With a smirk the lithe boy heaved himself through the large glass-less window and into the office.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?" Michael spat, trying to keep his voice low.

Leroy was rummaging around the desk, looking for a pen and paper to copy the address down on. "Getting Renee's address."

"Yes. I know you're getting her address. That's quite obvious. But, do you know how much trouble you'll get into, if you're caught?"

"No. And I don't really care," Leroy looked at Michael with yet another gigantic smile, "found it!" He held up a pen, and then quickly proceeded to jot down the address on a post-it note.

Leroy was barely out the window, when Ms. Bains returned. "I thought you two would have left by now." she remarked.

The boys stuttered some lame excuse when she noticed her computer, "Oh dear! It seems I left the computer running." She gave the boys an indulgent smile, "Silly me."

"Yeah, silly you, ha…haha…" Michael said nervously while Leroy was laughing far too monotonously to be real.

"Well," Michael pulled at Leroy, "we'd best get going now Ms. Bains. Thanks for your time!" the long nose practically ran out the school entry way, dragging Leroy on behind.

Ms. Bains gave a snort and amused chuckle upon their retreating backs. She turned to shut down her computer when she noticed one of her pens out of place. The woman rolled her eyes and chuckling with a full blown grin on her face; looked at the empty entry way the boys had just left through.

"Good luck." she muttered to the air.


	8. Instinct is a Man's Best Friend

**So, some description added. A bit more evilness on daddy's part. And a couple grammar thingies. Oh I thought I would mention that 6 out of 9 Strawhats have been "introduced" so far. 3 of them are obvious. One in a few more chapters. Another in a few, few more chapters. And one...well not any time soon. :P Have fun reading!**

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><p>The paved sidewalk they were walking on was surrounded by a thick wall of dancing maple trees. The wind was blowing quite fiercely on that autumn day, and Michael was beginning to regret his choice of not bringing a sweater along. He had assumed that Renee's house would be quite close to the school; he never saw her with a ride nor standing with the other pitiful students by the bus stop. But, if she did walk, then that must mean that Renee was far more in shape then Michael ever was.<p>

The shivering boy looked over at his companion, wondering if Leroy was faring any better then he. Michael did a double take when he realized that wrapped around Leroy's neck was a long, red, fluffy scarf! "Screw you! Damn it!"

"What?" Leroy at least had the decency to looked surprised.

Michael grabbed the end of the scarf and began to tug on it, trying to tear it away from Leroy. "You god damn traitor! How could you let me freeze to death in this evil wind while you happily go your way, warm as a button?"

"Leh m'go! Ahck. Ch'king 'elp…" The poor boy was turning blue in the face due to Michael's abusive ministrations. Luckily for him a rock was sitting in a very advantageous spot on the ground. So when Leroy tried to pull back, the long nose was pulled forward, his feet tripped on the rock, and he fell.

Coughing Leroy gasped, "You idiot! It's not my fault you forgot to get your sweater! I told you it was cold outside!"

"No you didn't!" Michael retorted from the ground, while nursing a bruised knee.

"…oh…well, who cares! Doesn't mean you can go 'round choking me!" Leroy continued to reprimand Michael but the other boy took no notice.

"Hey Leroy, if you would shut up for a sec you'd notice that we're here."

"And- wait, seriously?" He looked in the direction that Michael was pointing then down at the post it note he was holding, "Hey you're right! Awesome!"

Leroy then jumped and ran off towards the old peeling house. "Hey! Wait for the injured damn it!" Michael yelled after him, exaggeratedly limping all the way.

At the door Leroy was rapidly pushing the bell over and over again. Less then a minute later a haggard looking old man opened the door. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of them. "…what'ch want?"

Before Leroy could open his mouth Michael said, "We're looking for Renee Hofstadter. This is her house right?"

The man turned to Michael and nodded, "But she ain't home yet."

Leroy's eyes narrowed by a fraction, "Where is she then?"

"No idea." The man stated scratching his overbloated belly, then raked his gaze over the two boys again, "Don't tell me, you're her boyfriends."

"Wha'?" Michael uttered.

The man laughed a cruel laugh, "That's my girl. Scheming bitch she is! Just like her mom!" He turned to the two, "Well, sorry she two timed you, but you gotta know that's just the way she is. Nothing no one can do 'bout it."

Leroy shook his head, "We're not her boyfriends. Just friends. And she skipped today's afterschool lessons so we were wondering where she is."

The man laughed even harder, "Don't worry boy!" He placed a sweaty, _reassuring_ hand on Leroy's shoulder, "She's probably just getting high in some dump. That's what people like her do. She'll probably turn up by tomorrow."

"You hear that Leroy?" Michael turned to his friend with a wavering smile, "Even Renee's dad says it'll be fine. No need to worry!"

Leroy stepped back, off of the porch. The man's hand slipped off his shoulder. Flashing Renee's dad his coldest glare the usually jubilant boy snarled, "Go to hell." Then he walked away.

After uttering some frantic apologies for Leroy's rude behaviour to the half sober man, Michael ran to catch up with Leroy. "What the heck is wrong with you, Leroy?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah right!"

"Look, just," Leroy interrupted Michael soon to come rant, "I don't trust that guy."

Michael was dumbfounded, "Trust him? You don't know him!"

"I don't need to know him to-"

"Trust him. Right, I remember. That's how everything works with you, eh?"

Leroy looked away. "Look, Leroy," Michael pleaded, "there's nothing we can do now. Renee's not home, her dad's obviously not worried, so neither should we be." Michael grabbed hold of both of Leroy's shoulders and stared the boy straight in the eyes, "I'm sure she'll turn up at school tomorrow. And if she doesn't then we'll look for her. But until we're sure, there's nothing we can do."

Leroy frowned but nodded. "Good." Michael put on a small smile and let Leroy go, "Now, I have to go back to NB, I forgot a couple things there. You coming?"

Leroy sighed and resignedly shook his head, "Nah. Promised my mom I'd do a couple errands for her."

"Too bad." The two had reached the intersection, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." Michael called half way across the street, "And don't worry! Renee is fine!"

Leroy only waved his hand before turning left and continuing on his way to the supermarket. Remember the conversation he had with that pathetic excuse for a father, Leroy narrowed his eyes. He still didn't trust the man.


	9. The Trail is Not Lost

Leroy had spoke to Renee's teachers earlier and found out that she was absent to both their classes. It was lunch time now, and there was still no sign of her. So, Michael was putting on a brave front. He was trying to calm Leroy down, to make him believe that Renee was perfectly fine, but even Michael himself didn't believe that.

"Her dad hasn't called the school yet. He's obviously not worried."

"I know that." Leroy snapped.

"So there isn't any need for us to be worried. He thinks she's fine so she probably is." Michael pleaded.

Leroy turned to glare at his friend. It was a look Michael had never seen before on him. "I don't trust that man."

The long nose groaned. "Under what basis?"

"You saw him Michael. You saw it."

"Saw what?"

"He was cold."

"He was smiling."

"His eyes were cold."

"…but he was smiling."

Leroy only stared Michael down. "Damn it Leroy? What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know." Leroy shut his eyes in despair. "I just don't know."

Michael bit his lip, "Maybe Mr. Woodenmeyer can help us. If we just explain everything to him."

"Yeah, maybe." Leroy agreed reluctantly.

They both turned to go find Mr. Woodenmeyer when Michael accidently bumped straight into a girl.

"Ahck. Sorry!" Michael yelped, helping the girl pick up her fallen items. Her friend was staring with wide eyes at Leroy then pointed quite rudely at him.

"You!"

"Me?" Leroy asked, pointing to himself.

Michael and the girl looked up to see what was going on. "Yes you!" The friend was saying.

"You're the one that Renee tutors, right?"

"Yes." Leroy said slowly.

The girl on the floor piped up. "Have you seen her today?" She picked herself up off the floor.

"No." Michael stated, also getting up. The two girls exchanged a worried look.

"What is it?" Leroy asked.

One of the girls shook her head and laughed sheepishly. "Nothing. Nothing."

The one who fell down looked at Michael. "Look, I'm sorry I bumped into you. And…yeah…we gotta go."

She turned to leave with her friend but Leroy held her back by the arm. "Where is she?" He spat.

The girl gulped, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do." Leroy's voice was rising. "Where is she?"

"Leave her alone!" The other girl tried to free her friends arm. "We don't know anything!"

"Don't give me that crap!" Leroy yelled.

A crowd was starting for form and Michael tried to calm Leroy down, nervously. But he had to admit to himself, even he found the girls suspicious. They were obviously hiding something.

"Let me go! Let me go! You creep!" The girl Leroy was holding onto was almost to tears.

Leroy was about to yell right back at her when a toned arm pulled the girl free from him. To the girls horror it was now the fearful Gregory Winston that was holding onto her arm. But, he didn't seem to be taking note of her, his gaze was latched onto Leroy.

"What's going on?" Greg asked.

Leroy was still fuming with anger so Michael answered instead. "Renee's still missing. Those two know something. Won't tell us."

Greg's eyes flickered to Michael's before facing the girl. He narrowed his eyes calmly and said, "Where's Renee?"

The girl broke into tears and Greg, flustered, quickly let go of her arm. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." The girl fell to the floor crying.

The friend knelt down to comfort her friend and looked up to glare at Greg. "Look at what you did now." Then she faltered at the sight of Leroy. She shivered and started to tear up as well.

"We really don't know where she is. It's just…Samantha was joking around about getting revenge on her. Like, she was going to have that dealer Josh help her but…we thought it was only a joke." She was really starting to cry now, "We didn't think… we didn't know…"

Leroy turned to Michael, "Who's Samantha?"

Michael took a moment to remember. "That girl from the cafeteria. The one who…got in a fight with Renee. Remember her?"

Leroy nodded and turned to the girls. "And Renee is probably with her?" He asked.

One of the girls nodded. "Where does she live?" The girl looked at Leroy surprise.

"Where does she live?" Leroy repeated.

The girl shook her head. "You can't hurt her. What she did was wrong, but…she wasn't right in mind. You don't know her."

"I don't care about her." Leroy said, "I only want to find Renee. So if she is with this Samantha girl, I want to know where that is." Leroy repeated again, "Where does she live?"

The put on an anxious face but gave up the address. Leroy didn't pause a moment longer, he quickly turned and made his way out the school. Michael and Greg were following close behind. "Do you even remember the address, Leroy?" Michael exclaimed, tired from running.

Leroy stopped and started to stutter, but he really couldn't remember. Michael sighed, "Lucky for you I copied it onto my cell. Unlucky for you, it's real far."

"How far?" Greg asked. Michael jumped; he didn't even realize the guy was there.

"Err…" Michael was still quite nervous around the guy, "Real…far…"

Greg rolled his eyes. "Whatever, we can take my car anyways."

"You have a car?" Michael asked. What he really wanted to ask was: you can drive?

"Not really." Greg said, leading them to the parking lot. "It's actually a friend's, but it's real easy to steal."

"Steal." Michael gulped.

They stopped in front of a bruised old, dark green Ford. Greg stepped back from the driver's door and gave the car a good kick. The door popped right open. "Are you sure this is safe?" Michael asked fearfully.

"Nope." Greg said with a smile. Michael widened his eyes even further.

"Get in from here." He said, pointing through the open door. "The other doors don't open this way. I gotta go and grab something." He started to leave, "Be right back!"

Leroy climbed in the car after pushing Michael and scrunched up his nose. "Urgh. What's that smell?"

"…weed…and smokes…it's weed and smokes." Michael stared at Leroy, horrified. "I wanna get out! This is where they get high during school! I don't wanna be here! No!"

Leroy, sitting in shotgun started laughing at Michaels antics. "You're funny Michael! It's only a bad smell; you don't have to get all crazy!"

Michael was about to scream some more when a knock came to his side of the car window. He saw Greg standing out side of it holding a long wrapped parcel. Greg was motioning for Michael to open the car door so Michael did just that.

"Here." Greg carefully placed the parcel in Michael's lap. "Drop it and I kill you." He warned with a glare. Then firmly shutting the door he made his way to the wheel.

"What is this?" Michael asked, looking down at the parcel.

"My treasure." Greg answered.

Leroy yelped something about that being cool while Michael just stared down in wonder. Then remembering something he looked up hastily. "Are you sure you can drive? I mean…with…you know…"

Greg raised an eyebrow, "If by you know, you mean 'not having a license any more due to reckless driving' then sure." He gave Michael quite the evil smile. "No problem."

Michael's eyes widened out of their sockets. He pushed back farther into the seat, wishing for a seat belt that wasn't broken. Leroy only started to laugh while Greg pulled out of the parking lot at a very hazardous speed.


	10. Being a Bimbo is Always Helpful

**My apologies for the late update. My only excuse: I am incredibly lazy and have an unhealthy fascination with MBTI Personality Types. **

**PS. Apparently I'm an INTP.**

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><p>They were parked in front of a tidy, two story house. Michael was still in the backseat, crying, but Leroy paid no attention to him. He was already out the car and on the front porch by the time Greg pulled Michael up behind him.<p>

"This it?" Greg inquired, squinting his eyes up at the house.

Leroy turned to Michael for an answer. "Yes." The long nosed boy replied, taking a glance at the number on the building.

Leroy quickly rapped the door with his knuckles. He was about to go for a seventh time when the entry way flew open. In it stood a middle aged woman, who looked like she had just woken.

The woman quickly put on a tight smile, "May I help you?"

Michael quickly explained the situation to the woman, who turned out to be Mrs. Arnold; Samantha's mother. But the reaction was not one he expected.

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said get out!" Mrs. Arnold screamed, red in the face. "You little bastards have no right of accusing my daughter of anything! She did nothing! Nothing! I raised my girl well!"

"We-we're not insulting your parenting m'aam. We just-" Michael's attempts for reconciliation were futile. The lady wasn't listening to a word. Instead she was screaming at the three to get off her property, or else she'd call the cops.

"Well that was a waste of time." Greg muttered wryly, from the safety of the green Ford.

"No shit Sherlock." Michael spat. He cringed at the glare he immediately received but squelched it in place for an eye roll. "Oh gimme' a break. I'm not taking a cripple seriously."

Greg bared his teeth and growled, "Yeah? Well you should know that this _cripple_ can snap you in two with a flick of his finger!"

Michael was about to reply with a scathing, and probably life endangering comment when he and Greg were promptly smacked on the head.

"What the fuck?" They both snapped at Leroy.

"You two were being stupid." The boy said calmly, then he opened the car door and stepped out. "Come on."

Michael and Greg followed Leroy to the back of the house. Leroy pointed up at an open window on the upper floor. "Samantha is an only child right?"

"Yeah." Michael replied.

"So it would be safe to guess that that room is hers. The one with the pink curtains."

Greg looked up to where the finger pointed and nodded his head. "So? You're point?"

Leroy moved his pointed finger from the window and to a large maple tree situated not that far. "We climb."

Seeing that Leroy was serious Michael prayed to God for the second time that day.

Smirking Greg followed Leroy, who was already half way up the tree, "C'mon Michael! What's worse? Climbing a tree or being torn up by dogs?"

Eyes widening Michael cried, "Dogs? Who said anything about dogs?"

"Quiet!" Leroy hissed from the window ledge. "The old fart is still in."

Michael took a deep breath and followed his two new 'friends' up the tree. He did not hold a love for dogs.

By the time Michael managed to scale the length of the tree and climb into the room, Greg and Leroy were already inside sitting at a computer.

"So, what are we even looking for?" Michael asked, catching his breath.

"Clues." Was Leroy's only reply.

"You're looking for clues from a shut down computer?"

"No idiot." Greg snapped, "We're looking for clues from a computer we can't open."

Michael just stared dryly at the older boy. He rolled his eyes again, "Lemme see that."

The long nosed boy pushed his way in front of the screen, "You need a password."

"We guessed as much." Greg stated.

"Hello Kitty!" Leroy exclaimed!

"Whaa?"

"Hello Kitty." Leroy explained, "She has stickers of the cat on her closet. That might be her password."

Greg typed the character name in but it was another fail.

"All of you miserable cretins! Bow down to your saviour Michael the Great!" The African laughed.

"The heck?" Greg

Michael was waving around a bright purple notebook. "Ms. Samantha Arnold seems to be the dumb bimbo type o' girl."

"Is the password in there!" Leroy asked, excitedly.

"Yes. Yes it is." The long nose pointed to a string of letter on the lined paper that was titled with PASSWORD.

Greg typed in the pass, 123PASS456WORD, and voila! It was a home run!

"Check her chat logs!" Michael rushed. "Just open up her messenger, yeah that, and go to history- oh let me do it!"

A few moments later the three teenagers were staring at a conversation that took place between Samantha and some sOkRmAn.

"You've got to be kidding me." Michael said, fearfully.

"You have a GPS in your cell, right Michael?" Greg asked.

"Yeah."

"Then c'mon." Leroy walked off and through the window.

Michael took another look at the monitor, imprinting the address to the apartment, where Renee was apparently being held, into his head. He gulped and shut his eyes. If those bastards hurt Renee, he was going to _kill _them.

Mrs. Katharine Arnold slowly crept up the stairs and to her daughter's room. She knew those boys were up there but, what could she do? She was an old woman and they were three strong young men. So obviously, she called the police. But now, it was silent. Fearing that they had left before the cops could arrive; Katharine made her way to Samantha's room.

Slowly easing the door open, Katharine saw nothing out of place. The boys were gone, but, and she almost missed it, Samantha's computer was on. Closing in on the screen Katharine gasped in horror.

No! It couldn't be! Her daughter was- was, she wasn't like this! No! No! No! No!

The poor mother fell down on the floor in tears, she almost didn't hear the doorbell ringing from downstairs.


	11. No Regrets

_Lemons._ The overbearing scent of rotting lemons was drowning Michael. Thinking back to before the year began; Michael could never have imagined himself in the situation he was in now. Never would he have thought that he would, _could_ be friends with Gregory Winston. And, never did he think that he would follow another to Hell. But that's exactly what he was doing at that very moment. Michael Gheisbert was in a run down building tucked in downtown, on his way to fight knife bearing criminals because he was following the footsteps of Leroy Damien McHale.

But honestly he didn't mind. The long nose didn't regret accepting Leroy's invitation to friendship, nor did he regret keeping that friendship even if it meant including Greg in the circle. He especially didn't regret the fact that he was going out of his way, endangering his life even, to save a girl he barely knew, simply because Leroy was doing the same. And what Leroy did, was usually always right.

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><p><strong>Well that sure was short. Eh well, I warned you in the first chapter didn't I? Terrible attention span, therefore, short chapters. Plus, this length is also being used for emphasis and suspense. Anyways, please review. <strong>


	12. Goodbye Mr Sunshine

**...hello...no...I'm not dead...yet... o.o ...enjoy?**

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><p>One, two, three, four, five. There were five people in the living room of the small, dingy apartment. Four men. One woman. Four soon-to-be dead men. One soon-to-be dead woman. Leroy was not feeling merciful.<p> 


	13. Happy the Man

**See? I'm not that evil! I wouldn't leave you lot for about a month and come back with only one line! ...please don't hate me...I've been lazy...err...I mean busy...yeah, busy... **

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><p>Blood was spilling, and how he enjoyed it. Two years. It had been two years since Greg last danced. True, he wasn't at his best, but it was better than nothing.<p>

The boy snorted to himself while gracefully brushing the edge of his blade against some punks shoulder. _Oh God_ he missed this. Why had he been so stupid? Greg stabbed one of the boys knee, the bastard was trying to sneak up on him.

All he had to do was pick up the damn sword with his left hand _instead_ of right. It was so simple! And yet, it wasn't until that grinning idiot came along did Greg do just that. But, who cares? That no longer mattered. Right now, Greg was holding his sword and he was beating the shit out of Renee's kidnappers. Greg was in _heaven_.


	14. Stop, Drop, and Roll

North Basin was a friendly town with friendly people and friendly crimes. The only offences that ever happened were petty thefts, and the occasional vandalism of that statue of John A Macdonald in the city park. Nothing serious ever happened. Not once on Officer Gummery's watch, at least, not until now.

They had gotten a call from a lady who thought a bunch of punks had broke into her house, but when they got there, no one was around. The lady, Mrs. Arnold, had opened the door for them, crying like she was at some funeral. While his partner looked around the house for any hiding miscreants, he was led up to the daughter's bedroom and shown her computer. It took a total of three minutes to read it all, fifteen more minutes to gather backup from headquarters, and only ten minutes and get his ass to the apartment where a particular Ms. Renee Hofstadter was most certainly being held.

Unfortunately, while Gummery was trained to always expect the worse, this was beyond his imagination. Looking into the room, the robust officer took in the gory scene with widened eyes. Off to the corner a young woman was being comforted by some teenager with a pretty damn long nose. Gummery assumed that the girl was the victim, but had no idea about the boy. One of the other policemen went to straighten things out with the two, so Gummery put his focus on the other, more violent residents of the room.

One of the teens, a Goth it seemed, was practically ripping the skin off of two lanky men with a fricking sword! No, this certainly wasn't expected. With a gulp, Gummery watched as his fellow crime fighters stormed into the room guns a-blazing, trying to take control.

The Goth-teen immediately put down his sword, when the police came in, and sat down cross legged on the floor. No problem there. It was the other boy who was the real hassle. The teen, a black haired Caucasian, was still raging like a demon. The poor bastards didn't stand a chance; arms were flailing, blood was jumping and screams were ringing. No chance indeed...


	15. The Paintless Canvas

The fog slowly lifted from her consciousness. Her mind was clearing, and with it came an intense pain. It hurt, everywhere. It hurt to even think, and yet all she could do was think. She was sixteen years old, a girl, living in Basin, British Columbia, Canada. Her name was…what was her name? She couldn't remember!

Thinking, searching through what seemed to be her memories, she saw a boy baring his fangs, one clutching a sword, and another cradling her in his arms. The last boy was crying. _Why is he crying?_ She wondered. But the boy wouldn't respond. He just kept weeping while the other two kept killing.

…_nee!_ She heard a voice. She tried to look around, to see where it was coming from, but her head wouldn't turn. Did she even have a head? A body of her own?

_Renee! _There was the voice again! But what was it calling?

_Renee! _Renee…what was a renee…could it be her name?

_Renee! _The voice called again. Should she respond? But how? And what if it wasn't for her. What if it wasn't her name? She didn't think she was a Renee. But…what did she know. She didn't even know if she was real…

_I'm here. _She tentatively called, but the voice didn't hear her. Instead it called again.

_I'm here! _She called again, harder. But yet again, it didn't work.

_I'm here! _She tried gain, silently shouting the letters that were formed as images in what seemed to be her mind. But…the voice just couldn't hear her. It kept calling, and she kept answering, on and on!

…the voice stopped. She could no longer hear it. Where did it go? Why did it leave? Did it find the real Renee? Was it going to leave her? No! It couldn't leave her! She didn't want to be here! There was nothing here! She was all alone here! She needed the voice! She needed the monsters and the kind, grieving boy! She needed them! They couldn't leave her!

_YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!_

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><p><strong>So...good so far? I hope so. ...I was hoping to get rid of the happy-go-lucky atmosphere of the story, during this arc. ...I wonder if I suceeded? Well, don't worry. It'll come back soon, since this arc is almost over. I'm also thinking that I ought to turn this story into a series. Because at the rate I'm going, it's going to end up with sixty to a hundred chapters or so...and the majority of them being drabble size. :P So, most probably, I'll seperate the story into multiple stories. ...and I know exactly where this one will end. Either way, keep a look out for future chapter. And review! I'll really appreciate it! <strong>


	16. As the Rain Falls

**"Like. Oh. My. Gosh. ****Would you look at that, she like finally updated. Like wow!" **

**...I'd very much prefer that to be your reaction to my -ehem- _delay-_ in updating. Though if you'd like to add some extra compliments and suggestions regarding this chapter, or the story in general, be my guest. I'd _prefer_ that too. ... :D**

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><p>Leroy was startled by the sudden shout coming from the room Renee was sleeping in. He dropped the canned soda he was holding, and hastily ran to where the sound came from, bumping into a couple nurses along the way.<p>

"Nice of you to say hello, Leroy!" One of the nurses called from behind, but the boy paid no attention.

In the puke-green hospital room, Renee was finally awake. She was sitting up, and breathing heavily with a frightened gleam in her eyes. The look was quite similar to that of an injured animal, cornered by predatory hunters.

Seeing this hysteria, Leroy calmed down and slowly held up both his hands, as though showing he was unarmed. "Hey, Renee. It's us. Just us."

Understanding gradually swept over the red-head's consciousness', as she began to remember the faces surrounding her. The principal, the officer that came to the school to give safety lectures, the doctor who treated her fractured arm a while back, and...her friends.

Settling her eyes on the three teenage boys, tears filled Renee's eyes. She whispered something, illegible to the others.

Michael craned his head, "What was that? Didn't quite get it."

"Don't leave me." Renee muttered slightly louder.

Michael blinked in surprise, nonetheless he could understand where the girl's fear was coming from. She had just been assaulted to near death. Eyes softening, Michael reached out to pat the red-head's shoulder when she suddenly took hold of his arm, tightly.

Pulling the boy in closer Renee repeated, "Don't leave me."

"Eh? What? Of course we wou-"

"Don't leave me!" Renee interrupted the long nosed boy's reply.

"Don't leave me!" She begged again, this time with tears dripping down her nose.

"Don't leave me!" Renee continued to plead over and over again, as Michael began to cry alongside her, forearm still being tightly clutched.

The principal, Mr. Woodenmeyer, had turned his head away from this personal and heartbreaking moment. His student was a good girl, regardless of all those rumours. She didn't deserve this.

Turning his gaze to the other students in the room instead, Mr. Woodenmeyer saw that Leroy had gone completely pale. The boy wasn't making a sound, just staring at the ground below him, with his hand made into a shaking fist at his side. Beside the lanky boy, Greg seemed to be in a similar state. But with eyes screwed shut, and teeth biting his lips so vigorously, blood must have been drawn.

None of them deserved this, Mr. Woodenmeyer thought, while trying to tune out the sound of Renee's desperate pleadings.


	17. What's the Square Root of One Again?

**Aren't I awesome? It's only been like (insert number here) days since I last updated! You all must love me! ...probably...**

**Either way, please do leave a review! (I do love reviews. Who doesn't?)**

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><p>"We need a plan."<p>

The young, dark haired secretary looked up from the book in her hands. "Excuse me?"

"We need a plan." Leroy repeated, looking Sheila Bains straight in the eyes.

The secretary let out a sigh of amusement. Leroy and his little friends had been coming to visit her in the office during lunch time everyday for the past two weeks. At first she wondered as to what entailed the gatherings, but soon came to accept them as a daily necessity: generally, Michael and Leroy would just talk about the most random things, often including Sheila in the conversation, while Greg would throw himself across a chair and try to get some shut eye. But, often the topic would centre itself around the wellbeing of a certain red-head, and today seemed to be no different.

"Renee isn't getting any better." Leroy smacked the sleeping Goth on the skull, effectively waking him up, "So, we need a plan."

"What're you looking at me for?" Michael exclaimed at Leroy's pointed gaze. The African put the heat on Greg instead, "How about you?"

"...hug her?" the drowsy boy offered, yawning with a wide open mouth.

Michael rolled his eyes in exasperation, while Leroy actually took the suggestion into consideration. Sheila chuckled when Leroy stated, "No. That won't work. Renee keeps throwing stuff at us when we try to hug her."

"Yeah," Michael agreed with a dark mutter, "I really don't wanna be hit by a glass vase again. Barely got the shards out last time..."

Taking in the sight of the concerned teenagers, Sheila rose her brows at the utter simplicity of the apparently complicated dilemma, "Maybe, all she really needs is a friend by her side."

The three boys turned to look at her.

"I think...the best you can do is be there for her...and try to make her laugh as much as you can."

The older woman watched with relief as a smile slowly placed itself on the jolly boy's face. Leaning forward from his place on Sheila's desk, Leroy broke all rules of the Personal Space Bubble, and stuck his face impossibly close to the startled secretary's. Eyes connecting eyes, a breath was to be heard, "Perfect."


	18. Dynamics of Atmospheric Motion

The fact that the hospital had no library baffled her. Oh sure, they had a room with a bunch of shelves full of paperbacks with pretty covers, but there were no _real_ books; just a bunch of garbage about sparkling vampires and sticks that spout pretty lights! There wasn't even a single tome on meteorology! That, in itself, was a decleration of war. Unfortunately Renee couldn't quite gather the will just yet to go and fight her way to justice: too much work, she'd rather sleep. Alas a certain someone was persistent in their movement to forbid her of this clemency.

"-dodged the sharp, paper thin shurikens that came my way and shot the ninjas with my machete. It was then I, the Great Michael, thought to-"

"A machete is a blade you idiot. Not a gun." The red head snapped spitefully at the intruder taking up air in the room.

The dark skinned liar looked sheepish at this revelation, but quickly covered it up. "I knew that. I was-I was just testing you knowledge! Anyways, it was then I thought to call my henchmen, there were a thousand of them, to put those samurai back in place!"

"Samurai? What happened to the ninjas?"

"I shot, err-cut them." Michael stated. He then carried on with his oh-so-believable dialogue, "_Anyways_, the samurai took out the cutlasses that they had stolen from a nearby pirate crew and proceeded to try and destroy my men. But they had underestimated them, and therfore, I as well. We were just too strong for these ruffians!"

The girl gave him a dry look. "Lemme guess, you then wiped them all out with your all powerful finishing move.

"I then wiped them all out with my all powerful finishing move!" Michael cried, jumping from from the chair he was barely seated in. He was laughing with proud idiocy and pumping his fist in the air when the nurse came in.

"I'm afraid that visiting hours have ended...sir..." she said, eyeing the long nosed teen warily. The nurse really didn't want anymore broken vases.

"No problem!" He laughed. After gathering his stuff, Michael proceeded to fish through his backpack. After a couple grunts of frustration he pulled out a thick hard covered book. With a grin he passed it into Renee's open hands, "And your welcome." he said before leaving the room with the nurse tailing behind.

Looking down at the book, Renee's eyes widened at the title. Scripted over the purple leather in silver block letters was, _Dynamics of Atmospheric Motion. _Hands shaking in barely containted fury, she yelled out, to the open door, "YOU GIVE THIS TO ME _NOW?"_

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><p><strong>And there you go. Leroy's plan is finally in action. Now then, the title of the book is actually the title of a real book by John A. Dutton. I was just too lazy to come up with my own title. So that one doesn't belong to me. <strong>

**Carrying on:**

**I'd like to thank wind scarlett, The-Sun-Princess, eileene, ArtsyChick, SilverRainFalls, GeckoMoriaShadowLord, , and iKawaiiPandda for your reviews and support. I took a long break to gather my thoughts and now I that I have it all together, you guys can expect faster updates. I hope you will all stick with me for the rest of this story, and I also hope that you have as much fun reading it as I have writing it. So again, thank you guys. You are truly important to me. And I can't do this without you. Thank you, again.**


	19. Laughter: The Best Medicine

"You brought beer to a hospital?"

Greg grunted in affirmation, while jugging down his own can.

"Who the heck brings beer to a hospital? How'd you even manage to get it in here?"

"Wasn't that hard." he said, wiping the corner of his lips. "You gonna finish that?" he asked, eying Renee's unopen can.

Teeth grinding in confused frustration she finally spat out, "Yes I am!" before popping the can open and taking a large gulp of foul tasting alcohol.

Greg grinned in reply, before reaching down and grabbing another can from the box. "Soo..."

"Why are you even here?" Renee asked from behind her can. It was almost done and the alchohol was doing nothing to her. Sometimes being a heavyweight drinker sucked.

"Leroy."

"That makes sense." she grimaced. "So, what's up with your hair? I thought you liked the goth look?"

Greg reached up to pick at his new hairstyle. He hadn't dyed his hair for a while now so his natural colour was coming out from the tips. It wasn't much, but enough for a crewcut. "It was getting annoying. And Leroy figured I might as well chop it off."

"You really do whatever he says, don't you?" Renee pondered with a raised brow.

"Not everything." Greg defended, "I didn't follow him with his experimentation to see if a pair of chopsticks would touch his brain if they were pushed far enough up the nose!"

The red head cringed remembering that, aah- _science _experiment...not the best thing to witness.

"Though he's usually right about things." Greg commented.

Renee wanted to disagree but, honestly, she knew that her companion was right. Leroy had a weird knack of knowing exactly what to do, and when to do it, if he found it important. Unfortunately, his view on importance was fairly skewed from the rest of humanity's. "...well...I'm pretty sure he wasn't right about the chopsticks!"

"Uhg. Don't remind me." The short haired boy groaned. After sharing a bemused look with the red head seated on the bed they both broke into a hysterical laughter.

"How the hell did we even become friends with such a-a-"

"Idiot?" Greg supplied.

"Moron?" Renee suggested.

"Twit?"

"Retard."

"Blockhead!"

"Imbecile!"

"Dimwit!"

"Kook!"

"Dork!"

"Whale penis!"

"Whale penis?"

"Whale penis."

"Why whale penis?"

"That's what you said!"

"I didn't say whale penis!"

"Yes you did! And you said it again and again and again!"

"When did I say whale penis?" Greg laughed, red in the face.

"Dork." Renee stated, seriously.

"I thought we were talking about whale penises?"

"We are!"

"But you said dork!"

"And you said whale penis!"

"So?"

"A dork is a whale penis!"

Greg stopped to comprehend that revelation, before breaking into yet another hysterical laughter. "How do you even know that?"

"I don't know!"

"So...so, if Leroy's a dork then that means he's a-"

"Whale penis."

The laughter started to subside as both Greg and Renee thought about that fact.

"Leroy Damien MacHale, Whale Penis Extrodinaire." Renee exclaimed, eyes wide.

Greg nodded in approval, "It has a nice ring to it."

"Yes. Yes it does." Renee said, nodding as well. "Oh my god! Do you have your cell! Text that to Michael! He'll love it!"

"Yeah, yeah." Greg agreed, while pulling the electronic out of his pocket.

With a statisfied smile Renee watched the boy jab away at his phone. She took note of how he only used his left hand. The girl furrowed her eyesbrows in curiosity, "So how'd that even happen?"

Greg looked up in confusion. "What?"

"Your arm." She said, pointing to the limb hanging pitifully at his side.

Greg looked down at the arm as well, and then continued to type. "A couple years back, got in an accident during a sword fighting tournament. Some idiot got mad at me and cut through a nerve or something." He looked up with slightly narrowed eyes, "I thought you knew."

"Well...I _knew_ that you were attacked by the Russian mafia because you were illegally selling rare, expensive illegal drugs to hipsters down by the docks."

"What?"

"And that while you were pimping off your five year old daughter a cannibal tried to eat you because you refused to pay back your debt of a million bucks."

"Are those...rumors, about me?" Greg asked, astounded.

"Yup!" The red head chirped.

"Seriously?"

"You didn't know? People are really scared of you." Thinking back to about a month ago Renee said, "I was too. Until I found out you were a gullible idiot."

"I am not a gullible idiot!"

"Of course you're not! And I'm not a beautiful, sucessful, genius!"

"You're not." Greg flatly worded.

"Shut up before I permenantly lodge this beer can up your nose."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved the threat off, unconcerned. "So, anymore questions officer?"

"As a matter of fact yes. It's not everyday you have the infamous Gregory Winston at your every beck and call." Renee didn't let the boy retort to that jab, "So, what made you start sword fighting again?"

"Leroy." Renee raised her brows for an elaboration. "He kinda told me I was stupid for giving it up when I could just start fighting with my left arm instead."

"Why didn't you think of that yourself?"

"I don't know!" Greg spat, "I just-I was...stupid."

"Yeah! You were!" she laughed in reply.

Greg glared in return. "Anyways, it's not a problem anymore right? You've started practicing?"

"Everyday." He stated, proudly.

"Niiice...I don't really care." Renee smirked playfully. Greg didn't bother to rise at the comment this time. Instead he looked to his cell and stood up.

"I might as well go now, the nurse is gonna come soon and I don't want her to see the beer."

Regrettably, right at that moment the nurse walked in to inform the guest that visitor hours were ending, when she noticed the case of beer held by Greg. "Young man!" the old woman screeched, "Is that alcohol?"

Greg paled and swallowed nervously. "Yeah, well, by Renee!" He called to the sickly girl while trying to squeeze his way past the nurse with as little repurcussion as possible, "I think it's Sheila's turn to see you tomorrow!" And he was gone, along with the nurse.

Renee could still here the woman screaming down the hall when she remembered what Greg said. "Who the heck is Sheila?" she muttered to herself. Pausing for a moment, Renee realized something else. Under the light of blinding fluorescent bulbs that hung right above the doorway, Greg's short hair seemed to have an odd tint to it. But Renee just shook her head in amusement. It was probably just a trick of the light. No way did anyone have a natural green tint to their hair. _Impossible._

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><p><strong>So, we find out quite a bit about Greg this chapter. And I'm quite sure it's painfully obvious as to who he is now. Green tinge, pfft. Impossible, right? XD <strong>

**Anyways, I'm really on a roll today. Typing two chapters in one day. Good for me! You should love me! And this is a long chapter (for me) too! 1290 words to be exact! (Not including this A/N) I'm proud of myself! **

**So as you guys have hopefully already inferred, next chapter will be about Sheila and Renee. (maybe). Also, I'll be nice and say that since Leroy consideres Sheila a friend, it ought to be obvious that she's also a strawhat. ...now I wonder which strawhat she is? She is? SHE is?**

**;D Have fun guessing! There's only one right answer! **


	20. Confectionary for the Convict To Be

Apparently it wasn't _professional _for staff to form casual relationships with the students. At least_,_ that's what Ms. Hunt, the vice-principal, unexpectedly informed Sheila minutes before the school's warning bell rang that morning. The secretary knew exactly what the woman meant; she had to stop spending time with Leroy and the others during lunch because it wasn't promoting the aloof office image that the staff were immediately expected to portray. But was Sheila going to blindly obey this _suggestion? _Of course not. She enjoyed the boy's company and no where was this _suggestion_ stated as a rule. And Sheila, for one, knew that the principal who was Ms. Hunt's _boss, _Mr. Woodenmeyer, silently encouraged her friendship with the boys. So obviously Sheila didn't take any of Ms. Hunt's ramblings into consideration and merely spent the entire tirade silently smirking to herself while reminiscing the fascinating book she had read last night.

It was quite the informative read too. With all the troubles brewing in the middle east, Sheila was inspired to do some reading of her own. So, she started with one of the biggest and most controversial countries; Saudi Arabia. What she learned was interesting, to say the least: it had never occurred to her how large of a part the US had to play in the finding of the country and its monarchy. With all the disagreements and misunderstandings one would never have expected such a history between the two rival nations, that apparently had not a rivalry but a love-hate relationship. Interesting indeed.

_I wonder if Renee would be interested in it? _Sheila questioned herself, calmly sipping her lemon pekoe tea behind her desk in the office. _Probably not, teenagers don't usually care for these topics...but I still should get her a gift... _The secretary was in quite the muddle. It was her turn to go visit Renee after work, and she didn't want to show up empty handed. It would be quite rude otherwise.

Turning to her co-worker, seated to the right, she asked, "What do teenage girls usually like?"

"For a gift?" Barbara, the co-worker, questioned.

"M-hmm."

"Well...money, make up, jewellery, clothes. The usual stuff."

They all seemed very true to Sheila, but she wanted something a little less vague...plus she didn't even know the girl's size for clothing. Though...she didn't need a size for, say a scarf. _That would work.I could stop by the mall after-_ The dark haired woman's thoughts were interrupted by the ring of a bell coming from the front desk. She looked around the room to see that the rest of the office's inhabitants had suddenly become very busy with their _work_ and showed no intention of seeing to the needs of the student that was standing by the desk. Sighing in exasperation, Sheila stood up and walked over.

"Yes?" She asked, taking in the sight of the handsome boy. He seemed to a senior, from the looks of it; with a sharp face and tall girth.

"Why, good morning, madam." He said with a flirtatious smile. "I must say, you look absolutely stunning!"

Slightly surprised at the blunt flirting, Sheila could only offer a patient smile.

"Is it a trick of light? Or are you just naturally that beautiful?" The blonde haired teenager continued.

A fake cough sounded from behind the secretary and she looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Woodenmeyer staring sternly at the boy. "I see that you have become acquainted with Mr. Charles Stockholm, She- err, Ms. Bains."

The name sounded oddly familiar to the dark haired woman. "He is a new _student_ attending our fine school. And we wish him the best of luck." The principal handed Charles a thick manila envelope with a glare. "Now off to class, son. We already went over the procedures yesterday. I doubt you've forgotten them. Any questions can be directed to _me _in my office_._" With that Mr. Woodenmeyer strode off to said office.

Sheila turned to face Charles, who was now sporting a large scowl that abruptly transformed into a grin at the sight of the beautiful woman. "Alas, I believe I must take my leave, love!" The boy swooned. "But worry not." He leaned against the desk to take hold of Sheila's hands. Ignoring the reprimanding cry about proper behaviour coming from Mr. Woodenmeyers office, he promised, "I will return. Until then, I hope you will take great enjoyment in these treats while remembering our time together." Dropping a white, cardboard box with a handle into Sheila's open palms, Charles _pranced _off to class.

Ignoring the principals indignant sputtering from behind her, Sheila peeked into the cardboard box. Placed inside of it were five delectable cupcakes. The woman was astonished. The décor was _beautiful; _pink frosting was shaped into leavs to cover the entire top of the chocolate cake, and white candied petals were fashioned into a flower with a frosted purple centre. To top it off, a purple ribbon was strung around the circumference of the cupcake's pink paper cup, giving it a lovely touch. It was all absolutely stunning, and just happened to be the perfect gift for Renee. And so, smiling pleasantly, Sheila strode to the staff kitchen where she would hide the cupcakes deep in the bowels of the refrigerator, in hope that no hungry colleague would find them.

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><p><strong>So I guess that wasn't what you all expected. But don't worry, Sheila and Renee will meet soon. Just not yet. And I introduced a new character. Charles Stockholm, any guesses on who he is? ;D <strong>

**Just to say, if you don't get this right, I am officially mad at you. I gave plenty hints on his true identity this chapter! :D**

**Either way, I hope you enjoy this read! And please do review! I would love to hear your opinion so far! **

**Another thing, if any of you were wondering, we are still in the beginning stages of the story. (GASP! TWENTY chapters and only the beginning...though some of those chapters were drabbles, in my defence.) These is a bucket load of information still to be revealed! So don't leave yet! ...well actually you can, there's nothing left to read here right now...so...BYE! SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!**


	21. Flatheaded Cupcakes

**Head's up. I reccomend you listen to this song, Flathead by the Fratellis (or how ever you spell it) while reading this chapter...beleive me...it's perfect. Here's a link:**

**http:/www. youtube .com/watch?v=Fz2ZDeTYgTs&ob=av2e**

**Just get rid of the spaces.**

**Now, after you've gotten this song playing, read on!**

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><p>"Did you see him?"<p>

"I think I just died!"

"He smiled at me! He smiled at me!"

"We are so effing lucky!"

"No way is that eyebrow real."

"Did you hear, he's going to try out for the soccer team!...don't they practice shirtless..."

"Oh. My. God."

"I have chemistry with him! YES!YES!YEEESSS!"

"Damn it! I couldn't say anything to him!"

"He's so HOT!"

"Take a picture! Take a picture! Why aren't you taking a picture?"

"KYAAAAAA!"

"I love my life!"

"I think he went to the library!"

"Where is he?"

"He gave me a cupcake! NO! That's mine! Don't take it!"

"I bet two hundered that he's already taken!"

"Love me! Love me! Love meeeeee!"

"I thought people like him get homeschooled?"

"Am I the only one who really wants some father-son action going on?"

"I'm dreaming aren't I? Lord I hope I'm not dreaming!"

"I LOVE YOU! MARRY ME!"

"Why are all the girls going crazy?"

"Hn."

"I think that's Greg's way of saying he has no idea...oooh look, some guy's giving free cup-HOLY MACARONI! Is that Charles Stockholm?"

"Who's 'at?"

"Have you really been living under a rock for the past sixteen years Leroy? Charles is the son of Daniel Stockholm: _T__he _most famous professional ice hockey player after Wayne Gretzky! ...the boy's like-like a male, canadian version of Paris Hilton! What's he doing here?"

"...school...duh."

"No shit Sherlock, but shouldn't he be- hey, where are you going Leroy?"

"Cupcakes."

"Oh. Get me one too."

"Don't think he heard you."

"Then you go get me one."

"Why should I?"

"Pweeeaaaase? Wit a pwetty chaiwy on top?"

"Ew. Stop doing that. It doesn't even work on girls...on you it's just disgusting."

"Hmph. Fine. Just get me a goddamn cupcake!"

"Yeah. Yeah. OI! BLONDIE! PASS A CUPCAKE OR TWO!"

"...what?"

"You deaf or something? I said pass a cupcake!"

"These delectable treasures are treats for the beautiful maidens of this school. Not brutes like you."

"Shitty bastard...I AIN'T NO BRUTE!"

"Of course you're not, and I'm not a boy!"

"Damn right yeh aren't! More like a girly pansy!"

"I am must have heard you wrong."

"I. Said. You're. A. Crappy. Pansy."

"Fucking...Say that to the bottom of my foot seaweed head!"

"Shitty piece of shit! I'm gonna rip the shitty mouth of yers off ya fugly face!"

"Arrrrrrrrrggggggg!"

"Gaaaaaahhhhhhh!"

"Hahahaha! Greg and that baker guy are fighting!"

"Aaaah! Get a teacher! Someone get a teacher! They're going to kill each other! And how the heck does Greg even have his sword with him in school?"

"Hahahahahhaah! This if funny!"

"No Leroy, this is not- WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE A CUPCAKE AND I DON'T!"

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><p><strong>So? So? Yeah, I know a lot of you expected some Renee and Sheila bonding time but I really wanted to get some more stuff on Charles in first. :P So, this chapter is completely dialogue since I was lazy and didn't want to write up a long descriptive one. (In my standards.) I hope you guys can follow along one who's speaking...it shouldn't be too hard, I hope.<strong>

**Also, I can't exactly reply to reviews that are anonymous so for those, replies will be stated here. So here I go!**

Kiki-sama: Thank you for the review. I'm glad you took the time to give me your opinon. Now then, yes, the characters _are _heavily modeled off of the OP cast because they _are _the OP cast. Except for a few minor physical differences (like Nami's tatoo, and Luffy's scar under the eyes) they are the same. Now then, if you find that the names I gave them are a big turn off...good. That's what I was going for. While I myself can kind of see the majority of the introduced characters as the names I give them (example, Usopp and Michael...I dunno, they both seem to fit to me.) other names, such as Luffy's are impossible. (In no universe should Luffy ever be named Leroy. Leroy is not a good name. It is a terrible name. Luffy is not Leroy.) I will repeat, this minor changes are important to the story. Because it is only logical that these changes occur. More on that in later chapters.

Lastly, I do hope you don't give up on my story. I am only in the beginning, just getting all the characters together. I haven't even introduced the actual plot. So, while I respect your desicion to give up on this fic I hope that you'll give me a chance. Either way, thank you for reading it so far. And thank you for the review.

**So that's it for now folks! See you next chapter! Oh, and more reviews would be EPIC!**


	22. What Friendship Really Means

A feeling of immense suffocation sunk its claws deep into the bowels of her mind. Andrenaline slowly kicked in at the instinctual premonition of danger, and so she began to jerk out of the tight grip that held her in place. Eyes snapping open, the bed ridden red head was met with the sight of a shaking tuffet of straw yellow hair that seemed to be burrowing itself into her upper abdomen.

"Ge'off me!" The red head, Renee, shouted, trying to get rid of the intruding stranger. The reaction from said stranger was highly unexpected.

"Oh, beautiful lady! Magnificient angel that has the mercy to bestow her heavinly grace upon this world of heathens! How I-"

"The hell!" Renee exclaimed, harshly raising her leg in a sudden movement, and effectively kicking the frivolous boy away. Jumping up from her laying position, Renee frantically looked around the room: the strange boy was getting up from where she kicked him to, the school secretary, Ms. Bains, was sitting with a cup of tea in hands to the right of the bed, and seated on the table top by the door, laughing his head off, was Leroy.

Fixating her glare on Leroy, Renee growled, "Explain."

The boy only shook harder with badly concealed laughter, resulting in a scowl from the red head. Noticing the girl's displeasure, Sheila spoke up. "My apologies for the sudden intrusion, Ms. Hofstadter. But Mr. MacHale had the sudden urge to accompany me on my visit with you and once the situation was..._explained_ to Mr. Stockholm, he too followed."

Renee was puzzled, "Mac-oh Leroy...yeah, he I can understand, but why are you here? And him?" She asked, pointing to the smiling blond boy.

"Did Mr. Swordsman not inform you of my visit, yesterday?"

"Mr...Swordsman...are you talking about Greg?"

Sheila nodden calmly in affirmation.

"Uhh...yeah...he did...but that doesn't exactly tell me why?"

"Because Sheila's my friend!" Leroy chirped happily, "And you're my friend! So that mean's you two should be friends too!"

Renee gaped at the grinning boy, then turned to the face Sheila, "I hope you don't mind, but could you give Leroy and I-"

"That's not my name!"

The red head gave the black haired boy a perplexed look, "-some privacy. There's some things I'd like to discuss with him."

"Of course, Ms. Hofstadter." Sheila agreed pleasantly, "Would you care to join me for a drink of coffee, Mr. Stockholm?"

Like a puppy, Charles eagerly followed Sheila out the door, leaving Renee and Leroy-who-was-now-apparently-not-named-thus alone.

"Okay, let's get some things straight Leroy I -"

"I already told you. That's not my name!" the boy snapped grumpily. The frown was quickly replaced with a bright grin as he exclaimed, "I hate that name. So I'm looking for a new one, starting today!"

Shaking her head in the absurdity of her firends actions Renee inquired, "Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"Luke."

"Luke?"

"Ahuh! I like Luke! It's a lot better than Leroy! So I'm Luke now!"

"Okay than...Luke...care to tell me how you're friends with the school secretary and a celebrity."

"Oh. You know about Charles too!"

Renee rolled her eyes, "Everyone knows about Charles." Luke was about to interject but the red hed cut him off, "Except you, obviously. But that's not important. What I want to know is how you know those two so well."

"Well, Sheila is nice to me, and she says a lot of interesting things, and she lets us hang around in the office during lunch, and she's really smart and she-"

"I really don't care about how awesome she is Le-_Luke, _I just want to know why she's your friend and apparently mine too!"

Luke regarded the girl oddly, "What are you talking about Renee. I just told you why we're friends."

Shaking her head once again at the absurdity called Leroy, ahem, Luke Damien MacHale, Renee sighed in defeat. "Just tell me about Charles then."

Luke laughed, remembering the events that took place earlier that day. "Well he was giving out free cupcakes at lunch in school and then he started to fight with Greg, and then he got mad at me because I ate all his cupcakes. And then I asked him to be my friend because he makes really tasty cupcakes!"

That, Renee reasoned, was completely in character for the boy grinning before her. Though she still had to wonder what the famous Charles Stockholm was doing at North Basin Secondary, but she figured that could wait for later. "So, why exactly is he _here_?"

"Cuz Charles wasn't giving me anymore cupcakes even though he had a bunch left, because they were only for the girls, then Michael said that you'd want some and then Charles asked who you were and Greg told him about you, and they started to fight again, then Charles said he wanted to come visit to make sure you were alright then I said that I'd only let him come if he gave me all his cupcakes! And made more food for me later!"

Renee began to shake, "Are you saying," she could barely contain her anger, "that you bribed me off for a cupcake? A goddamn fricking cupcake?"

"What's the big deal?" Luke scoffed innocently, "It's not like you're gonna get hurt or nothing!"

The whole room turned red, "You IDIOT!" Grabbing the lamp that stood on the night table, Renee hurled it forward, watching in statisfaction as it came into contact with Luke's head with a thud. "I oughta slam some sense into that minute puddle you call a brain! Who the hell hands their friend over to a pervert for a goddamn cupcake!" Renee reached over to the table, this time grabbing the phone, unfortunately her murderous desires were interrupted when the door slammed open and suit clad Charles Stockholm flew through the entry.

Taking a quick glance around the room, Charle's assesed the situation. Renee was looking highly unhappy, so obviously Luke was to blame. Narrowing his eyes he turned to glare at the boy. Before Luke could even bother to defend himself Charles jumped, and raised his right leg up high before bringing it down upon Luke's head with a resounding clash! "How dare you threaten Renee! A lovely swan such as herself should never be affronted with such cruelty!"

Turning to Renee with a passionate gleam in his eyes, Charles grabbed her hands and exclaimed, "Are you hurt, my lady? Did that monster harm you? Shall I kill him? Anything! I'd do anything for you fair maiden!"

Blushing prettily Renee looked towards Sheila who was leaning against the open door. The older woman was smiling amusedly at the scene playing before her. Noticing the path of the red head's gaze, Charles abruptly stood up danced over to Sheila. Taking a hold of one hand he pulled the dark haired women towards the bed and extravagantly gestured for her to take a seat.

Looking down in contempt at Luke who was nursing a swollen head, Charles mourned, "I'm sorry that beautiful goddesses such as yourselves had to witness such a hideous scene. But worry not," the boy looked up brightly, "I am sure that delicious sweets for the delicous sweets before me, will cheer you right up!" Chuckling softly at his smoothness, Charles took out a large box full of sweets from his backpack. The boy arranged the desserts prettily on the table and urged the girl's to take their pick. Noticing a hand that most certainly did not belong to that of a female, Charles glowerd. Kicking Luke away from the table he spat, "You don't get one."

Luke was horrified. Sputtering in agitation he looked to Renee and Sheila for help, but Sheila was engrossed in a book and Renee only looked at him with a glare. Grinding his teeth in anger Luke proclaimed, "I don't like you!" He pointed at Charles from where he sat on the floor, "You aren't my friend anymore!"

The blond boy only rolled his eyes in response and ignored Luke, who was muttering spitefully as he sulked in his corner. He instead turned his attention to Sheila who had inquired upon the ingredients of one of his cookies.

Renee took in the entire exchange with faint amusement. The boy, Charles, was flirting with Sheila as lavishly as he had with her some minutes ago. Obviously the boy wasn't to be trusted when it came to serious relationships, playboy screamed all over him. But then again, Renee didn't really care, he did make really good food.

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><p><strong>So, I know. That probably wasn't the conversation between Sheila and Renee that you guys were expecting, but really? Who becomes friends with the school secretary. (Other than Leroy ahem I mean Luke.) So I had to clear that up. But don't worry, more will come between those two later. I have a lot planned for them.<strong>

**Now then, some of you may be wondering about Luke, and why he's no longer Leroy. Well, I don't know? Why is he Luke? Is he Luke? Is Luffy a Luke? You tell me? XD (PS. Say that in a really thick italian accent...makes it sound so much more dramatic.)**

**So, care to review?**


	23. Semi Guaranteed Temporary Freedom

It had been a good month since Renee Hofstadter first checked in to Basin Memorial Hospital, and Martha, the nurse misfortunate enough to have been assigned to her, was ecstatic to see her leave. The girl had come in with eleven broken ribs, a concussion to the head, a cracked femur, a paralyzed leg, and a disheartened spirit. She left with a pair of crutches, a cheeky grin, and the sanity of floor seven's staff. Honestly, thinking on behalf of all the workers of floor seven, Martha wasn't sure which should be deemed worse: Renee and her constant blackmailing (Martha _still _didn't know how the brat found out about her little _rendevous_ with the foodcourt's janitor.) or her boisterous friends that seemed to find great pleasure in destroying hospital property. Nevertheless, none of that mattered anymore since today was the day Renee would officially be discharged from the hospital. Without a doubt Martha was pleased to see the girl limp out of the hospital and out of her life...until next Saturday when she came in for therapy, but Martha was sure she wouldn't see her then...at least...she hoped so...

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><p><strong>I'm surprised that none of you questioned on why Renee was in the hospital for so long. I kept trying to put the reason in but it seemed to out of character. Luffy and Zoro wouldn't have mentioneed it since they already knew what happened and there was no point bringing it up, Usopp because again he knew what happened and wouldn't want Nami to relive it all, Robin would have found it to be impolite, and Sanji...well he would have been to caught up in fliriting and anyways, he would have been like Robin and deemed it impolite. And Nami herself didn't say anything because why say it when it's there for you to see? So, since I couldn't bring up the reason and damage in anyother way, I figured why not the nurse? She deserves her own chapter. Plus, cmon, how can Nami NOT take control of a hospital? XD <strong>

**So yeah, that was a short one. But I'll probably update again very soon. (Maybe even later on today...or in half an hour.) Also, I'd really appreciate any suggestions to male names that start with the letter L. ...Google really isn't being my best friend today. -.-**


	24. There's a Party in the House Tonight

TSHHHK!

The sound brought forth the image of monochrome toning, onto the small LCD screen.

TSHHHK!

Red hair, red skin, and a red lips that were twisted into a red frown, made quite the view.

TSHHHK!

"Damn it Leroy! Would you stop taking extreme close up's of my face while I'm eating cake!"

"That's not my name anymore, Renee." Luke stated from behind the bulky, black camera, "It's Leonard now. And don't worry you look great!"

"She looks RED!" Michael screamed in hysteria, looking over Leonard's shoulder and into the camera screen. "How the heck did you get it to do that?"

Charles looked up from the large apple pie he was in the middle of cutting and turned to Sheila, confused. "I thought his name was Luke."

The older woman just replied him with that mysterious smile of her's, forcing Greg, who was seated beside her, into giving a sincere explanation since he was such a caring friend. "He's wierd like that."

"Tch. Figured as much." Shaking his head slightly in exasperation, Charles rapidly wore a large grin and called out, "Who wants pie?"

"I do! I do! I do!" Leonard shouted, waving his arms up high like a kindergartener being offered candy. The boy quickly dropped the camera, which was luckily saved from a tragic death by the agile Michael, and ran to get the first slice of delicious, freshly baked apple pie.

"Hey! I'm pretty sure that the guest of honour gets first slice!" Renee hollered from her place on the sofa-bed.

"You got first slice to everything already!" Leronard whined, only to be kicked to the ground by an irritated Charles.

"Shut up. Renee and Sheila always get first slice." The cook then proceeded to offer the girls a slice, as Michael lectured an already sulky Leonard on respecting other people's property and NOT throwing their highly expensive DSLR camera's to the ground.

Greg enjoyed the small party Leonard had planned for Renee's "Freedom from the Icky White Place that's Full of Really Mean Fat People" (Leonard's words, not his.), as an observer instead of a partaker. Smirking slightly at the _events_ that had occured, he reached behind his chair to pull out a carton of cheap beer. Greg's smirk grew into a statisfied smile as he took the first gulp out of a newly opened can. He was about to go for his second when he was interrupted by a shadow suddenly falling over him. Raising his gaze, Greg saw that Sheila was now standing before him with a raised brow. He was about to ask what the hell she wanted when he suddenly remembered that she was not just Sheila but Sheila Bains. As in, Ms. Bains the school secretary...and he was a student (not to mention minor) drinking illegal beer infront of her...damn.

Greg was still thinking on the next course of action to take when Renee cried, "Izzat beer Greg! Gimme!"

Greg looked frantically between the two girls, he had absolutely no idea on what he should do. Luckily another distraction came up, as Sheila was just about to speak.

"Beer?" It was Leonard who had voiced the question. "Never had any. Mom wouldn't let it...is it any good?" The last part was said with a wide _sparkling _eyes.

Greg was now in quite the dilemma. Should he ignore Sheila's authority and go on drinking, plead guilty and beg her to let it slide, or...he couldn't think of an or. Luckily Greg didn't really have to do anything as Sheila, herself, solved the problem for him. Chuckling slightly, the woman reached down to the carton and pulled out a can. She then proceeded to pop it open, take a sip, turn around, and walk to her living room television, presumably to turn it off since no one was watching it anyways. Dumbfounded at this new revelation, Greg could barely respond to Renee's shouting for beer.

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><p><strong>So here we get the end of an arc, (or is it?) more characterization on Sheila, and beer. (I mean, who doesn't like beer!...actually not me...never had a sip of that stuff...probably never will...hopefully never will. Ah well, to each his own, eh?) And yeah, Leroy became Luke who became Leonard, I wonder what his next name will be?(suggestions are always welcome. Remember, start with L) ...also, in case if you didn't get it, the party took place at Sheila's...but more on that later. Oh, and there was a foreshadow here! Not a big one but there was one! (Now that I think about it there are quite a few foreshadows littered through out the many "chapters" of this story.) I promise to update soon! And please review! And read! (Though I'm assuming that you are only reading the author's note BECAUSE you have already read the chapter and have reached the end...so that's kind of uselessredundant now. :P )**


	25. Man's Primal Instincts

**So yeah...I haven't updated since like...forever but...yeah... here you go!**

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><p>In most cases one would automatically assume that a near death experience and the inducing of long-term trauma would be enough to pardon any past misgivings. Unfortunately, Mr. Woodenmeyer was not one to follow the conventional way of thinking. No, he didn't care that Renee had been sexually assaulted. He didn't care that she was in hospital for a month thanks to broken limbs. He didn't care that she was probably traumatized by the event and maybe- just maybe, couldn't stand being stuck in a room by herself with a bunch of boys everyday after school! No. He was just 'happy to see her back to her old self'.<p>

"What'cha mumblin' to your self ?"

The red head shot her gaze upwards, "Le-" The boy shot her a wide eyed stare in warning, "Lincoln. I'm not mumbling to myself. I'm just cursing Woodenmeyer to Hell."

"It's not a pretty place." Michael sighed gravely, "If it hadn't been for my fantastic beast taming skills, I would never have made it out alive."

Lincoln swivelled in his chair to face the long nose, "You've been there!" he asked in mystified awe.

"No he hasn't." Greg butted in, "Don't be so gullible Lincoln. He's lying."

Lincoln gasped, "Are you lying?"

"What? No!" Michael exclaimed, and to Greg he said, "And you go back to sleep!"

Renee was about to inject her own retort but couldn't be bothered to when the scent of lemons and sugar wafted under her nose. She rose from her slump on the table with a pleasant smile. Charles was placing a delicate cup of tea accompanied by a plateful of sugar cookies before her.

She breathed deeply, "This is exactly what I needed. Thanks Charles."

"Anything for you my sweet! And Lincoln get yer dirty paws away from them! Your cookies are in that bucket!"

Somehow that statement led to a verbal war between Charles and Greg which would soon escalate to pure violence. Fortunately, before things could get truly heated, the door to the classroom opened and in walked Mr. Woodenmeyer with Sheila in tow.

The man assessed the situation with narrowed eyes, "There doesn't seem to be much studying going on."

Renee merely popped another cookie into her mouth.

"Ahh! Mellorine!" Charles suddenly cried. Prancing up to Sheila he fell down to a knee and offered her the plate of cookies held high over his head, "Please do help yourself to some of these scrumptious delicacies. And if this is not fitting to your taste, I have plenty more to choose from!"

"You have other sweets!" salivated Lincoln, "Gimme!"

"They're not for you." Charles growled.

A tick steadily grew in Mr. Woodenmeyer's head as he watched the proceedings. The man finally blew, "Renee Hofstadter! I explicitly told you that this time is to be spent tutoring your two charges! And instead what do I see? A tea party! Greg sound asleep! And Leroy sticking pens up his nose! Why is Leroy sticking pens up his nose?"

As serious as one with pens stuck up their noses could be Lincoln stated, "I'm not Leroy anymore, old guy. It's Lincoln now." Lincoln then turned to face Michael once again and rapidly twitched his nose like a rabbit. Michael fell to the floor laughing.

Sighing like the old man he was Mr. Woodenmeyer shook his head in defeat. He really couldn't understand the lot of them. "I don't care anymore. Do whatever you want. Just make sure you keep coming and at least try to teach them. Uhg. I'm leaving now. And Ms. Bain's, hurry up and find that file."

"These cookies really are delicious Charles." Sheila said once the door had shut behind her boss, completely ignoring the fact that she had come with a mission of sorts.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"Yes, Lincoln?" Sheila chuckled.

"You wanna put pens up your nose too?"

Lincoln was promptly attacked by Charles foot, "Don't ask that you idiot! Why the hell would an angelic princess like Lady Sheila ever want to do something so damn vulgar!"

Charles was then lured into another fight by an irritated Greg while Renee ignored the two and began to converse with Sheila and Michael about the renovations made in the local mall.

Lincoln, feeling oddly left out, noticed a large, gleaming, beautiful white sea gull fly past the open window. His stomach began to rumble. Lincoln licked his lips hungrily and without another thought jumped out of the large opening in the second-story classroom.

Michael was the first to notice Lincoln's suicidal action, "Gaaaahh! Lincoln! What the hell!"

"Shit!" Greg spat, breaking away from Charles he tightened his grip on his sword and jumped out of the window as well, hoping to catch his friend before any bones were broken.

In panic, everyone else ran to the window as well. Peering down they all felt relieved to see that both boys had survived, completely unscathed. Lincoln was waving up at them with a madman's grin while Greg was rubbing his sore head.

"Lincoln! What the hell are you doing?" Renee shouted furiously.

The boy pointed to the large grassy feild before the school that was currently hosting a large flock of sea gulls. "Food."

"What?" asked a perplexed Michael.

"I beleive he wants to hunt sea gulls and eat tem." Sheila offered as an explanation.

Lincoln nodded his head in agreement, "Can you cook 'em Charles?"

"Hmph." Charles snorted proudly, "Course I can...I've never cooked sea gull before but I bet a roast would be pretty good..."

"So we're hunting sea gulls then." Greg stated, pulling his sword out of the sheath while looking like quite the menace. "Heh. This should be easy."

"Yeah right!" Laughed Charles, "I doubt you'll be able to catch even one."

"It'd still be one more then you ever can." Greg bearing a wicked grin called in reply.

Charles narrowed his eyes, "Frickin' seaweed head! We'll see bout that!"

He then pulled himself onto the ledge of the window, completely prepared to jump down. But, in an after thought, Charles reached behind him and grabbed a hold of Michael around the neck. "You're coming too." he muttered, and ignoring the long nose's horrified screams Charles jumped out the window.

"Aaaah." Renee gasped in exasperation, "Those boy's are going to be the death of me! Honestly jumping out of windows and hunting sea gulls! Is that even legal?"

The red head looked to her older friend for support, to only see that Sheila too was climbing onto the window ledge. Renee paled, "What are you doing?"

Chuckling Sheila said from her perilous seat, "I've never eaten sea gull meat before. I'm sure it's quite tasty. And this all looks like good fun, so why not?"

Without waiting another moment Sheila jumped, leaving a shock stricken Renee in her wake. Two stories below her Renee could hear Lincoln shout, "C'mon Renee! It's not that far a jump! And none of us even got hurt!"

Looking down Renee saw all her friends huddled together staring up at her. Even Michael, who seemed to be afraid of everything, didn't look as though he quite minded being forced to jump two stories down. And none of them were hurt...so why would she be? Taking a deep breath Renee braced herself, and jumped over and out the window before the insanity of her actions could catch up to her usually logical brain.

The ground seemed to be rushing up to meet her at an impossible pace, and Renee just knew that this would be her end. The usually soft grass would pummel into her like a million boulders, leaving only a bloody trail behind. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth, hoping to lessen the impact as much as possible.

THUD!

Her eyes flew open and she looked up at the blurry faced above her. The world was slightly shaking and their was an aching pain spreading from her lower back all the way up to her head and all the way down to her toes. Blinking a few tears away, Renee shakily pushed herself up into a seated position. Panting hard she shook her head lightly, in hope of easing the dizziness. The world began to still when a hand was thrust into her view. Clasping hold of it Renee was pulled onto her feet. "You okay?"

Renee looked into Lincoln's trusting eyes, and was surprised to know that she was okay. Yes, it hurt like hell. But, nothing serious. Nothing like what happened a month ago. She wasn't going to die from this.

Forming a shaky grin on her face Renee nodded. Yes she was okay. Then, only a breath's moment away the red head's eyes were narrowed into anger and she promptly struck Lincoln in the face with a thick fist. "You idiot! Don't ever do that again! And don't ever make me do that again!"

Instead of getting angry or crying from the pain like a normal person would Lincoln just laughed in reply and dodged Renee's other fist, "Aahhahaha! It's okay! You're not dead! I'm not dead! We're not dead! Now let's get some food!"

Without waiting for a reply Lincoln bounced on his feet, twirled around, and ran after a poor unsuspecting gull. The bird never knew what hit him.

"Hehehehe." Greg chuckled, "Let's do this."  
>He then turned to Charles, "Oi, shitty cook! I bet I can kill more of them then you."<p>

Charles started back with an evil gleam in his eyes, "Oh, it's on."

The two boys then followed Lincoln into the fray and began to mercilessly slaughter the birds. Greg with his deadly sword and Charles with his lethal kicks. Both seemed to be fairly matched for this contest.

"Damn it." muttered Renee, "How the hell am I supposed to hunt birds?"

The red head turned to Michael, thinking that the long nose would be stuck with the same dilemma as her, but she was to be surprised. Michael had taken out what seemed to be a slingshot from the little pouch he always wore around his waist. Noticing Renee's raised eyebrow he explained, "I made it a while back and kept it ever since. I usually practice with tin cans but never an actual moving object. This could be good training."

With that said Michael ran into battle with a terrifying war cry.

Laughing at the long nose's antics Renee turned to Sheila instead, "Uhg. So what should we-the hell?"

The red head had noticed the dead bird Sheila was holding by the neck, and the large heap piled to the side of her feet. Sheila threw the bird onto the top of the pile and smiled at Renee quizzically, "What's wrong?'

"You- you! How? You...you never even moved!"

Sheila just chuckled, not bothering to supply Renee with a decent answer. Renee shook her head in astonishment and turning around, began to walk her way back to the school, "I don't care. I-I I'm going to go get...something. Like- a weapon or something or...uhg. Everybody's crazy." 


	26. And Life Goes On

The six friends stood before a pile of what seemed to be a hundred dead sea gulls. The jumble of birds was a bloody mess; it stunk badly and was horrifying to look at. The boys couldn't be more excited.

"We only had, like, two dozen birds flying around. Where the hell did you get so many?" Renee asked, unable to take her eyes off the mini mountain of feathers.

"There were more at the park." Michael replied.

"When'd you go there?" Renee wondered, she couldn't remember them leaving.

"When we started to run out of birds here. Sheila was getting all of them." Lincoln said.

"I still don't know how she did that." Greg scowled. He was in a terrible mood, apparently he and the shitty love-cook had tied. Greg knew that the shitty love-cook cheated.

"I won." The shitty love-cook stated, somehow capable of reading Greg's mind at that very moment.

"Shut yer trap shit head! It was a tie damn it! A TIE!"

They then proceeded to get into yet another violent and spiteful battle. The other four mostly ignored them, though Sheila did say, "I believe the winner was actually me."

"So what now?" Renee pondered.

"We eat!" Lincoln cried.

"Not yet, idiot!" Michael smacked Lincoln on the head for being stupid, "We have to cook them first! And the nearest kitchen is in the school, but the cafeteria's locked. And we can't exactly carry these around town!"

Lincoln's look of utter dismay was lifted with Sheila's comment, "You do realize I _am_ school staff, so I _do_ have a key to the cafeteria."

"Aren't you, you know..._not_ supposed to do stuff like that?" Renee asked dubiously.

Sheila chuckled in that particular way of hers.

"Aaaah! You're so awesome Sheila! Yay! Yay! Yay! We get to eat now!"

"Our cook's still fighting with Greg." Renee stated.

"Gah! No! Charles get over here! Sheila's gonna open the school kitchen up for us, so you have to cook for us! But you can't do that if you're fighting with Greg! So stop fighting!" Lincoln ran towards the two boys, most probably hoping to break up the fight before the sun went down.

Michael chuckled at the display, then turned to Renee, "I still can't believe you managed to hunt sea gulls with a hockey stick."

"I am a girl of many talents!" Renee stated proudly, "Though I would've liked something a little more strong. The damn thing broke on me!"

"I have a staff lying around at home, if you want. It's pretty strong. Made of real wood." Michael supplied.

"Why would you have a staff lying around at home?" the redhead asked.

"I made it." Michael said, matter of factly.

Renee blinked, "...and what would I do with it?"

"I dunno...use it to hit people?"

Renee didn't have to spend more then a second going over the offer, "Sure. But I'm not paying you for it!"

"Yeah, yeah." Michael shrugged.

"It seems they're done." Sheila said, looking to where Lincoln had his arms wrapped around Greg and Charles necks, and was pulling the boys back towards the birds. He was laughing all the while.

"I am not under any circumstance, carrying dead birds into the school." Renee with a _humph, _"Now c'mon Sheila. Let the neanderthal's do the grunt work."_  
><em>

Sheila smiled in amused exasperation, but still followed after the redhead. From behind, Michael shouted, "You two didn't have any problem killing the birds in the first place!"

Renee replied by throwing a rock at the long nosed boy.

"Where'd Renee and Sheila go?" Lincoln asked, once he had reached Michael.

"Sheila's gonna open up the caf, and Renee's being a snob again."

"Don't call Renee a snob you ignorant snot!" Charles shouted, quick to defend a woman's 'virtue'.

"Don't hit me!" Michael cried in his usual cowardly manner.

"Let's eat!" Lincoln screamed, running circles around the pile of birds.

"Yeah, yeah." Greg muttered, and then he proceeded to grab an armful of bird. The others followed his example and soon the lot of them were making their way to the school, carrying dead sea gull.

Not soon after, they were all seated around a long table with a platter(or thirty)full of roasted sea gull. There was also a piping hot stew steaming in a large pot, and a dozen meat pies. Also of sea gull, of course.

"We eat!" Lincoln cried, and this time they really did eat.

"Oh God Charles, you really can cook!"

"SO GOOD! MORE!"

"Hmph. Not bad. And Lincoln, stop trying to eat my pie!"

"Would you care for some more stew, my sweet daisy?"

"Why yes Mr. Cook, that would be lovely."

"I wonder if we can start selling your food Charles. Just think of all the money I'll make!"

"You know what Greg, you're kinda like a sea gull!"

"How the hell am I sea gull Lincoln?"

Lincoln ignored the boy sitting across him, and turned to his side instead. "And Michael, you're an ostrich! And Renee's a vulture! And Charles is a peacock! And Sheila's a blue ja- no she's...she's a robin! And I'm a dragon!"

"Where the hell did you get a dragon from? And how am I a vulture. You owe me ten bucks for that insult!" Renee exclaimed.

"What a surprise." Michael drawled, "And ostrich, really Lincoln?"

"Hahahahaha! From now on, call me Dragon!" Lincoln crossed his arms together confidently.

"It doesn't even start with an L!" Michael pointed out.

Lincoln deflated, "Oh right...oh well! That doesn't matter much anyway. But hey, why don't we make those your nicknames! Michael is now Ostrich. Sheila, Robin. Renee, Vulture. Greg, Se-"

"SHUT UP!" a chorus of voices shouted. They obviously did _not_ want those names. Regardless of how true they may be...in Lincoln's mind of course.

"I don't mind, actually."

They all turned to gawk at Sheila. "I quite like the name Robin. It has a certain fitting ring to it."

"Yay!" Lincoln jumped from his seat, "Okay everyone. From now on Sheila isn't Sheila. She's Robin. Don't forget that."

"You can't be serious." Renee wailed weakly into the hands that were cupping her face. She could barely keep up with Lincoln's constant name changing, and now she was supposed to remember Sheila's as well.

Said girl chuckled, "I never did like 'Sheila'. Robin is much better."

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><p><strong>Eh? Eh? MUWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! I TOLD YOU that they're changed names were important. Not that this chapter really emphasizes that. And just to say, I totally didn't plan on making Robin Robin this way. It just happened. But don't worry, the rest will get their names soon. And then the plot will really reveal itself! (You heard me, we haven't even gotten to the plot yet!) Also, YAY I don't have to keep typing robin and going back and changing it to sheila just cuz I forgot! I get to keep it as Robin! Anyways...<strong>

**How'd you guys like the update? I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, I kind of hit a writer's block. But I got through it (by reading tons of OP fan fiction) and am happy with the end result. Hopefully I'll update a lot sooner next time. Either way, please do leave a review! I like reviews! :D**


	27. Meet the Shrink

**I planned on updating yesterday, but my mum kicked me off the computer. -,- So I finished this morning, and voila! Here it is! I hope you like it! Be sure to read and review!**

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><p>Mr. Smith combed his mustache with meticulous care. It was the only bit of hair left on his body, and the man didn't plan on losing it any time soon. He swivelled in his seat to face the mirror. Smiling smoothly, Mr. Smith knew he presented the image of a kindly, relatable high school counselor, which was exactly what and who he was.<p>

The sound of the door creaking open alerted Mr. Smith to the arrival of a student. Mr. Smith flicked his eyes to the computer screen; the image on it matched the one before him. The boy, Leroy Damien McHale was a grade 11 student of middle-eastern descent, probably Afghan. Said boy had now taken a seat in an arm chair and was grinning like a maniac. He was probably having a good day.

"Good afternoon." Mr. Smith lay his elbows on the desk, and leaned forward.

"Heya." Leroy Damien McHale, replied.

"Do you know why you're here?" Mr. Smith put on a stern face at this statement; best to let the boy know he meant business.

"Nope." Said boy didn't seem to care.

"Do you want to know?" Mr. Smith let a smirk slip; always good to show that he wasn't intimidated.

"Ehh...is this going to take long? I'm reeeaaaly busy ya know!" Leroy Damien McHale raised his feet to sit cross-legged on the chair. Mr. Smith winced in annoyance, he really hated it when students did that.

"We'll take as long as we must, son. See, here's the thing. Mr. Woodenmeyer tells me that you've been causing quite a bit of trouble, lately."

Leroy Damien McHale laughed.

"Now, come on, let's be serious Leroy, can I call you Leroy?" Mr. Smith asked; pure courtesy of course.

"Nuh-uh." Leroy Damien McHale shook his head in refusal.

Mr. Smith furrowed his brows in irritation, "And why not?"

"Cuz it's not my name."

"...then what is?"

"Liam."

"That's not what is says here." Mr. Smith pointed out slowly. Perhaps the boy was touched in the head.

"Leroy is my old name. Now it's Liam. But I don't think I really like Liam much either, so I'll probably change it too."

Mr. Smith blinked; maybe not so much touched in the head as very confusing. "Why don't you like your name Ler-Liam?"

"It's not right!" Liam wailed, "It's too boring! They all are! Liam, Leroy, Lincoln, Luke, none of them are good enough!"

"Oh...why aren't they good enough Liam? And why do they all start with an L?"

"It's an L because it's an L." Liam glared at Mr. Smith defiantly, "And they're no good because they don't fit right."

"Surely a name doesn't work like that? You get yours at birth, and grow into it. Nobody every fits their name right away. It takes time." Mr. Smith tried to reason with Liam.

"No. That's wrong. Everyone has a special name for themselves." Liam stated seriously, "A name that defines who they are. A name that when you hear it, you know it can only ever apply to them. I have that name. It's out there somewhere. It's just hiding."

Mr. Smith was amused, "Then do tell Liam, what's my special name? I do have one of course."

"What're you going on 'bout old man?" Liam squinted his eyes in disbelief, "You already have a name. It's Mr. Smith."

"But, you just said...Mr. Smith is my special name. It fits me perfectly, is that what you're saying?"

Liam grinned a 'yes'.

"Are there any others?" At Liam's confused glance, Mr. Smith elaborated, "Are there any other people you know who have their special name?"

"Yep, Robin!" chirped Liam.

"...do I know her?" Mr. Smith asked.

"Yep. She's one of the school secretaries!"

Mr. Smith knew exactly who Liam was talking about, The principal had informed the counsellor of the boy's relationship with said school secretary, Sheila Bains. He just didn't understand how she was a 'Robin'. Mr. Smith voiced his confusion.

"Robin is Robin," Liam said, "because Robin fits Robin."

"But how? How does it fit her?"

"It just does."

Mr. Smith knew he wasn't going to get any more insight from this conversation; it was time to change direction. Perhaps, instead of names, they'd start talking about actual people. "Liam, this has been on my mind for quite a while. You have friends, right?"

"Yeah! Robin, Michael, Greg, Renee and Charles!" Liam answered the rhetorical question.

"Yes...any ways, that's where my question lies. From all of your friends, Michael is the only one your age. The rest are older than you. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but, don't you think you should make more friends with the other students from your own classes. You must get quite lonely since Michael isn't in all your classes."

"You're funny old man! Of course I have more friends! Everyone's real nice in all my classes! They're all my friends!" Mr. Smith's absurdness brought a hearty laugh out of Liam.

"If they're all your friends then why didn't you mention any of their names when I asked if you had friends, before?"

"...because...those friends aren't the same kind of friends as my other friends. I mean- Greg, Renee, Robin, Michael and Charles are...special."

"So are you saying your friendship's not normal?" Mr. Smith smiled gleefully; he was finally getting somewhere!

"What! No! Of course it's normal! We're friends, how's that weird?" Liam was quick to defend the subtle insult.

Mr. Smith made his eyes gain a compassionate twinkle, "Normal friends don't hunt birds in the school yard, Liam."

"But I was hungry!" Liam wailed.

"Why don't you try to do something other than slaughter. You have a lot of built up energy, so you should put it to good use. Say, the soccer team's having try outs tomorrow. Why go and give it your all?" Mr. Smith said.

Liam looked petulant, "I don't know how to play soccer."

"You don't?" Mr. Smith asked in surprise.

"Never played it before." Liam answered.

"Not even when you were young?" Mr. Smith thought this was quite odd; he knew of Liam's odd lifestyle with the constant moving, but he was assured that Liam had had a stable childhood. So why the lack of a normal childhood pastime?

Liam shrugged, "It never came up."

"Did you play any games or sports when you were young?"

Liam just had to laugh at the insinuation that he didn't have fun during his childhood, "Of course I did! Me, Dad, and Gramps would play War all the time!"

"War?" Mr. Smith wasn't all that comfortable with the image of a child holding guns.

"Yep! It was real fun! We'd all go hide in the forest and set up traps to defend our territory! But the goal was to get as many checkpoints in the other two territories as you could, so you had to run around looking for those. It was really hard! I never once won against Dad, but I did beat Grandpa a couple times...though I think he was just going easy on me. But ah well, it was still really fun!" Liam shone at the happy memory.

Mr. Smith smiled it relief; it seemed that the boy was just talking about some variation of tag. Completely harmless. "So what kind of 'traps' did you guys come up with?"

"Oh you know, the usual." Liam assured, "Just simple stuff like bomb triggers, hidden pitfalls filled with tarantulas, a couple mountain lions and black bears here and there. Nothing major."

Mr. Smith gaped. Nothing major...the hell! He didn't know whether Liam was pulling his leg or not. The boy looked completely honest, and there didn't seem to be a single cunning bone in his body. Anybody could see that. So...had he really been..."Are you serious?"

"Ahahahaha, what? That's not _normal_ either?" Liam snorted; he seemed to think it was a perfectly normal childhood activity. Mr. Smith was about to respond that no, it was in fact not normal, when Liam's cellphone went off. The boy read the text on it and quickly jumped out his chair.

"Sorry counsellor-bald guy! It's been real great talking to you, but I gotta go now. Renee's starting to get mad that I'm late so Michael's scared." Liam chuckled as he began to slide through the doorway," So any ways! Bye! And I'll be sure to check out the soccer try-outs! I think Charles is going already."

Mr. Smith shot out of his chair, "Wait Liam! We're not done yet! Get back here! What do you mean about the bombs and all that stuff? Tell me about the traps!"

Unfortunately for Mr. Smith, he was just shouting at air. Liam was long gone.

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><p><strong>So more insight on ...Liam. :P I figured that having him converse with a counsellor should be faaaiirly interesting. :D Too bad Mr. Smith isn't actually a good psychiatrist. But ah well, it's not like Liam noticed!<strong>


	28. What the Shrink Didn't Expect

**So new chapter. I hit a writers block earlier and just couldn't figure out what to do with this chapter. Now, I must say, I am immensely happy with how it turned out. More foreshadows, plot advancement, and characterizations. I hope you like it! Be sure to read and review!**

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><p>He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that the marimo was really that stupid. Charles quite liked that word. <em>M<em>_arimo._ He'd read it in some book or other and found out that it was japanese for a type of balled up seaweed thing. The name fit Greg perfectly. True, the idiots hair was more of a murky swamp water like colour, but it seemed to be getting greener everyday. As weird as the rest of him. Honestly, going back to the inital dilemma, Charles still couldn't understand what made the marimo think that the proper way to defend the goal post was by cutting up the soccer ball when it comes near. The bastard _said_ he had played soccer before. _Well shit Sherlock; no you didn't! _

"Hahahaha! Charles! You're curly-brow is doing that funny twitch thing again!"

"No, Lawson! It is not doing that funny twitch thing! My eyebrow is perfectly normal! Now would you please stop carrying that ball with your hands and actually _kick_ it for once!"

Lawson pouted, "But me and Michael were having a contest on who could throw the ball up the highest. I was winning."

"God damn it!" Charles screamed, he then turned his wrath to the long nosed boy by Lawson's side, "Do you have any intention of actually trying out?"

"Pft! Heck no! You'd all clobber me!" Michael guffawed.

"THEN GET OFF THE FIELD!" With a single look at the murderous expression on Charles face, Michael bolted.

"And you!" Charles continued his rant, "Do you plan on trying out or not!"

"Of course I do! You don't have to get all pissy." Lawson childlishly stuck his tongue out in defiance.

"Pissy? God fu- da, I AIN'T PISSY!" Charles charged forward, entirely intending to show Lawson exactly how un-pissy he was.

"Aaaah!" Lawson screamed, before turning tails and running away from Charles, laughing hysterically all the while.

Neither of them noticed that Greg had given up on trying out for soccer in favour of lifting weights by the corner of the soccer field.

"What a bunch of morons." he grunted between lifts, "Everyone knows you can only hold the ball when you've gotten three homeruns."

Robin, who was walking by Greg at the moment, happened to overhear the comment but chose to ignore it. Some things just weren't that important. Renee, on the other hand, seemed to be nursing a steaming cup of lemon tea; Robin's favourite. Nearing the bleachers where Renee and Michael were seated, Robin called out a greeting.

"Oh, hey Robin!" Renee chirped, "It seems the idiot duo doesn't know how to play soccer."

"I thought it was an idiot trio and Charles was part of it?" Michael asked as he handed Robin a cup of tea.

"It's actually an idiot quartet," at Michael inquisitive raised brow Renee explained, "You're part of it. Don't look at me like that. You're as idiotic as the rest of them most of the time! It's just me and Robin that have any sense around here! _Anyways,_ as I was saying, you and Charles know how to play soccer but Greg and Lawson obviously don't. So under current context, they're the idiots and you two aren't. Therefore idiot duo."

Robin chuckled, "I don't think Mr. Cook, Mr. Swordsman, or Mr. Sharpshooter quite appreciate that grouping Ms. Hofstadter. Though I should think that Mr. MacHale wouldn't mind."

"Mr. Sharpshooter?" Michael repeated, "Are you talking about me?"

Robin smiled, "Of course I am. I saw you with that slingshot of yours; you make quite the fine sharpshooter."

While Michael preened himself at the compliment, Renee inquired, "And what am I? You only call me by my last name, and occasionaly my first I guess, but that doesn't matter. Don't I get a nickname too?"

Robin blinked; she hadn't quite considered the names as nicknames, per say. They just seemed to be the right thing to call them. And as of yet, nothing of the sort popped into mind when she thought of Renee. "Well...is there anything you'd like to be called?"

"What? No...it's just..." Renee was at a loss, why couldn't Robin come up with a name for her as well...was she not as important as the others?

"I think I get it!" Michael interrupted the girls confused trains of thought, "Greg wants to be a swordsman, and Charles a chef, which is basically a cook. Plus I want to get better at using my slingshot; kinda like a sharpshooter. So really, all the nicknames Robin gave us have to do with what we want with the future. What..._placement_ we want in life...so, what's yours Renee? What...dreams! That's it! What dream to you have; what do you want to be!"

Renee pondered Michaels sudden epiphany. What dreams did she have. That was easy, graduate, get into college, become a meteorologist, survive life. Renee was about to say as much but then she realized something, "Navigator. I want to be a navigator. For a ship. I mean, I know it's more realistic that I just become a meteorlogist. But...a navigator is what I'd really like. I mean, just think of it! You got the weather, meteorology, the ocean, and the adventure of just always being on the move! There's so much...freedom in that. Yeah, I'd like to be a navigator. Heck, I'd also try out cartography, making maps, while I'm at it. I did it a bit when I was young, but there was never any...opportunity, to get into it."

Robin barely heard anything that Renee had just said. Her mind was stuck on just one word. _Navigator_. In Robin's opinion, that's exactly what Renee was. What she should be.

"Navigator." Robin stated, feeling around the word, "Ms. Navigator...I like it. Do you like it, Ms. Navigator?"

Yes. Renee did like it. She liked it very much. For some reason the nickname, no- _title_, gave her a glimmer of hope. Something she hadn't felt for a long time.

Taking note of the large, statisfied smile on Renee's face, Michael said, "I think she likes it Robin."

"That's good." Robin chuckled, feeling happier than she had for ages.

"Which brings up the question," Michael continued, "what's your nick-err, name. What's your name?"

"Yeah Robin!" Renee laughed, "You gotta have on too!"

Robin laughed while she burrowed through her head for an answer. It was just like dealing with Renee's name all over again. Nothing popped out. Robin was already exactly where she...was...in life. She highly doubted she was going anywhere; adulthood had already been reached. There was going to be no change; so fanciful dreams from her childhood were hardly important. They didn't, couldn't, define her. The only thing that did was what she already was. "Ms. Secretary, I guess. I'm Ms. Secretary."

"No you're not." A voice sounded from the bench behind them. Apparently Lawson had somehow sneaked past them, "Robin's not a Secretary."

"What're you talking about Lawson?" Renee asked in disbelief; surely her friend wasn't _that_ stupid, "Of course Robins a secretary!"

Lawson looked at Renee with a scornful glint in his eyes, something that was once thought of as impossible for the boy, "I know she's a secretary, Renee. She just not a Secretary."

"Where's the difference!" Michael cried.

"One's a title, is it not?" Robin asked, trying to make sense of Lawson's brain, "And the other's my job."

"That's right!" Lawson nodded, "You're job is of a secretary, but that doesn't mean you're a Secretary. You're...Robin...for now. No...Robin is you name, but it's not your...title. Yeah. You're Robin and you're something else. We just don't know yet."

That's when Michael realized something once again, "Did you always want to be a highschool secretary, Robin?"

"What? No." Robin, in surprise, blurted the answer.

Michael grinned, he guessed as much, "Then what. What did you want from life when you were younger. What was your dream. Your true title?"

Robin stared back at the faces looking at her so steadfastly. Surely they weren't serious? Her childhood wasn't important. Neither were her dreams. They weren't of any use to her now, there was no point thinking about them. They weren't going to change her life now. So why should they matter. Why should it matter. Why were they looking at her so intently. They couldn't actually belive she, a grown woman, was going to talk about childhood fantasies. It was just ludicrous. Why were they looking at her like that. She couldn't, she wasn't, she- "I wanted to be an archaeologist."

Robin widened her eyes in fear. Lord, she didn't just blurt that out did she? What happened to all the composure she learned to build over the years? With these thoughts in mind Robin fearfully raised her gaze. She was surprsied. All three of her companions had large smiles on their faces; as though they had just won the lottery. Or in Lawson's case, an entire boatload of meat.

"Robin. The archaelogist." Lawson breathed.

"It's perfect." complimented Michael.

"Yeah. So how about you? Do you like it, Ms. Archaeologist?" Renee asked with a teasing twist to her grin.

Robin stared at the three in astonishment. Did they really think that she fit that title. It was impossible. She was unworthy of it, for God's sake she was just a school secretary. Yet, looking into their expressions of pure joy, Robin couldn't help but feel that yes, she did like it. She liked it a lot. But, Robin wasn't able to tell them such as Lawson had noticed the acceptance on Robin's face and began to cheer loudly. "She likes it! She likes it! She likes it!" he chanted in jubilance.

"Calm down Lawson!" Michael laughed, "You're making a scene!"

Lawson just laughed harder at the remark, "What about me then, Robin? What's my title! I want a title too!"

Robin laughed as well. Lawson always knew how to make her laugh. God did she need that, what with all the realizations and epiphanies happening lately. And apparently it was Lawson's turn now. So, Robin looked into Lawson's excited brown eyes. Staring in at the depths of joy, simpleness and love, Robin thought the most peculiar thought. _My Captain will be King_.

Where that thought came from, Robin knew not. There was just one thing she was sure of. Both titles fit the boy before her. He was both. She didn't know why, and she didn't know how to find out, but she knew. With all her heart, Robin knew this to be true. "You're a king. And you're a captain."

"I'm the captain of a ship and king at the same time," Lawson pondered Robin's words; not even bothering to stop and think that captaining an airplane was an option as well, "I guess that mean's I'm the King of the ocean. And I captain a ship, my ship, which is also my castle."

"What?" Renee giggled in amusement alongside Michael.

"That's right." Robin agreed. It all seemed so right.

Lawson's face split into an impossibly large grin, "That's right!" he laughed to the heavens, "I'm King! I'm King of all the seas and oceans! And I'm your captain Robin! You're my archaeologist! Renee's the navigator, Michael the sharpshooter, Greg the swordsman and Charles the cook! You're all a part of my crew! You help me defend my kingdom, my seas! We travel together, we play together! We have adventures! We have freedom! We do everything we want, because I'm King and you're the Kings crew!"

The whole lot of them were laughing now. Michael was clapping, encouraging Lawson to continue, and Renee ceased to feel amusement at Lawson and Robin. Instead, she was overcome with pride; a deep sense of pride that she couldn't begin to understand. Robin shared similar sentiments.

Lawson ran down the bleaches, to stop at the fence encircling the soccer field. Waving his arms wildly he captured the attention of various spectators, but most importantly Greg and Charles. "Hey! Greg! Charles! Will you two join my crew? I'll be Captain and you'll be the swordsman and the cook. We'll go on a ton of adventures, and no one will stop us because I'll be king! You want to join?"

Greg rolled his eyes. Seriously, only God knew what went on in that boy's head. But...captain...for some reason, Greg knew he'd have no trouble following the boy. In some ways, Lawson was already Greg's captain. And any kingdom Lawson ruled would be fun, that was a surety.

"Will Renee and Robin be joining?" Charles asked, after a moment of contemplation. Lawson seemed to be serious, the least Charles could do was humor him.

"Yeah!" Lawson cried in reply, "Renee's the ships navigator and Robin the archaeologist! But they'll get hungry and _die_ if you don't join as the cook!"

"Don't you joke about those heavenly blessing dying!" Charles snapped, "But sure, why not? I'll join your crew!"

"Yay!" Lawson jumped around cheering, "What about you Greg? Will you be joining me too! I'm sure we'll come across a lot of evil bad guys that you can cut up during our adventure! You'll have loads of fun!"

Greg grinned at the thought of cutting evil bad guys; it really did sound fun. "Yeah I'll join!" He laughed, "As long as I get to cut up the shitty cook as well!"

"What'd you say Marimo?" Charles lashed back.

"The hell! Quit calling me that bastard! My hair ain't green!"

Lawson laughed at the spectacle Charles and Greg were causing with their fight, completely oblivous to the fact that he had just caused a much larger one. The boy truly was becoming the infamous oddity of the school, and it seemed he was dragging respectable celebrities like Charles Stockholm along with him. But Lawson paid the busy-body's no attention. His crew wasn't complete yet.

"We need a musician!" Lawson stated, while stomping back up the bleachers to the others.

"Where are you going to get one?" Michael asked, between bites of a chocolate chip cookie.

"I don't know, and give me some cookies too." Lawson grabben half a dozen cookies from the carton Robin offered him. He'd have taken more, but they kept falling from his hands, "But I'll find them. Don't worry. We'll have our crew together soon. Though, six such an incomplete number. We need ten people."

"What would the other crew members do, Mr. Captain?" Robin asked, only half following the conversation, as one eye and ear were paying attention to the soccer coach's attempt at prying Charles and Greg apart.

"I dunno. A scientist maybe, or a helmsman. A dancer would be pretty cool. Oooh, we'd better have a doctor though. We don't want to get sick. And maybe a shipwright."

"A shipwright? Why do we need a shipwright?" Renee inquired.

"Because we'll have a ship, and it might break." Lawson said matter-of-factly.

Renee blinked, a ship, right. She should have known.

"Anyways," Lawson continued, "what they do isn't that important. They just have to be our friends, and they have to be fun. That's what's most important!"

"Obviously!" Michael guffawed, "Though I have to say, you're sense of fun is pretty skewed from the rest of ours."

Renee vigorously nodded in agreement.

"Whaa? I'm not skewed!" Lawson whined.

"Yeah, you are!" Renee chuckled.

"Most people wouldn't initially find Gregory Winston, for example, to be _fun_." Michael said.

"More like heart stoppingly scary." Renee chuckled darkly. She still didn't forgive Greg for scaring her so much when she first met him. Now that she was friends with him, she knew he was nothing like the rumors said. A bit rough around the edges, true, but mostly fun to be around. Like Lawson said, but not at first. No way was he like that at first.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Lawson disagreed, "Greg's loads of fun! I mean look, he's playing tag with Charles and the coach-guy right! Hey! He's playing tag! That's not fair! I know how to play that too! Why didn't he ask me to join! Damn it! I want to play too now!"

"Wait, Lawson!" Michael cried, trying to get the boy to stop.

"They're not really playing tag are they?" Renee asked weakly.

"No." Robin supplied, "Charles accidentally kicked the coach in the back and Greg cut through his jacket, not the flesh thank God, so now they're running away from an angry coach."

"...and Lawson going in to play 'tag' isn't going to help is it." Renee inferred,

"No. Not really." Robin said.

"Damn it. We'd better go in then," Michael said to Renee as he got up from the bleacher, "if we don't try anything, those three idiots are going to get expelled."

Renee bit back a groan as she followed Michael down to the field, "You know what Michael. I take back what I said earlier. Their really isn't an idiot quartet, just an idiot trio, and you aren't part of it."

"Thanks." Michael chirped back.

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><p><strong>Here are some review replies to two anonymous reviewers.<br>**

**anon: Thank you for the review! I must say, it took me a while to understand your review. I finally went and reread the chapter you reviewed for. Turns out the answer I was looking for was in the a/n. So yes, to you I will now say, I too feel sorry for anyone who didn't come up with the right answer. No way are they true One Piece fans. :D  
><strong>

**Luffyko: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you enjoy my story and find it original. That's part of the reason why I wrote it. The majority of highschool OP fics I come across are LuNa or some yaoi pairing of sort, and I personally only go for nakamaship. Their is to be no other type of shipping nor slashing aboard the Sunny. Friendship ONLY! Unfortunately stories that cater to my "desires" are few and far between, so I was "forced" to write my own. But I like writing, so all's good. :D And you can't wait for Brook or Franky? What about Chopper? Poor Chopper feels left out now! XP  
><strong>

**And to the rest of you, THANK YOU FOR READING! Be sure to look out for any updates! I'll try to be faster this time round!  
><strong>


	29. Not All Friendships Are Normal

Renee was surrounded by a tower of books in the school library when Michael came to find her, carrying a large hand made card, covered in signature.

"What's up?" Renee asked while the boy pushed the books around as to see her better from where he took his seat.

"I want you to sign this." Michael said handing the card over, "It's a get well soon card for Mr. Martins."

"Who?" Renee asked even though she still went ahead and placed her signature in sparkly green ink among the others.

Michael gave the red head a funny look, "Mr. Martins, the custodian."

"Oh yeah."

Michael rolled his eyes at Renee's obliviousness, "I just found out he was in a car accident over the weekend. So I figured I'd make a get well soon card for him and get as many people to sign it as possible. Just to cheer him up ya know?"

"Why do you care?" Renee asked, "He was just the janitor."

"Well yeah, but he was really friendly and helped me out with a lot of things. Like he was the one that taught me the basics of shooting a slingshot. Stuff about trajectory, power, aim and whatnot."

"Isn't that something a physics teacher would tell you."

"Yeah, but I was in grade8 and no physics then. Anyways that's not the point!" Michael shook his head clear, "The point is that he's stuck in a hospital bed and I want to make him feel better. He's a real nice guy, and he deserves our support!"

"Whoa there boy. No need to get defensive. I'm sure he does. Okay how about this, I'll come with you when you go to give the card, just to so my support as well. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Michael smiled sheepishly, "That'd be great!"

The boy abruptly stood up, "Anyways I have to get back to Socials. Unlike you I'm still in grade 11 and don't have a study."

Renee laughed as Michael crept back off to class. The boy was hoping not to get caught by any teachers for skipping but with the way he was slinking about, he was failing miserably at it. Rolling her eyes Renee returned to the text she was reading. It was a book on the basics of cartography and she found it fascinating.

Ever since her conversation of sorts with Robin, Renee became more and more interested in navigation. Everything about the field appealed to her. Renee knew it was just a fanciful dream, no way was she really going to be a navigator. There just weren't many stable opportunities for a job like that in society, but it was still a worthwhile hobby. And it was a lot more interesting to do than studying for her marketing test.

**SPSPSPSPSP**

It was a little after the school bell rang signalling the end of the day when Renee finally met up with Michael at the front entrance. The boy was pacing nervously and looked as if the world was facing the apocalypse.

What's the problem?" Renee voiced her concerns as she drew near.

"They don't know where he is!" Michael cried. He looked just about ready to burst into tears.

Renee gasped, she really didn't want the boy breaking down with her anywhere near him. That'd just be too awkward. "Calm down, no need to cry."

"I'm not crying." Michael snapped, but wiped his eyes nonetheless.

"Of course you're not, now tell me what happened." Renee snorted.

Michael replied, "I asked the office but they don't know where Mr. Martins is. He never checked into the hospital."

Renee gaped, "What? How could he not be in the hospital after a car accident?"

"I know!" Michael wailed, "It doesn't make any sense. But the hospital never saw him. The school's just called the police, to report him missing, since he's been gone for two days now."

"Well...if the police are on this they're bound to find him." Renee comforted.

She never realized that Michael would be this anguished over the school janitor. Maybe they were closer than she first assumed. Odd since he was a sixteen year old boy and he over thirty. Renee was about to comment on this when she was interrupted by Robin.

"They've found him!" Robin had a smile on her face while cradling a cordless phone in one hand.

"They have!" Michael exclaimed, "Where is he then? Is he okay? What happened!"

Robin chuckled, "One question at a time Mr. Sharpshooter. First, yes he's fine. They found out he was checked into another hospital out of town. Down in the lower mainland to be exact. Apparently his family has connections to the hospital there and wanted him to get treated as fast and efficiently as possible. So they had him transferred. There was a bit of a mess with the paperwork and employee shifts which is why the hospital didn't know where he was. But we know where he is now and that he's in safe hands. So you needn't worry anymore."

Which was exactly what Michael was doing at the moment. He let go of the worry as his breath slowed down to a normal pace, "Thank God." he smiled weakly, "I guess that means I can't get his card to him then."

Renee smiled, "No you can't. But I don't think he'll mind if you give that to him when he's discharged. Along with a welcome back party of course."

"Yeah, that'll work," Michael agreed then addressing Robin asked, "Do you know when he'll be coming home."

Robin frowned, "No I'm afraid not. We haven't even been told how serious the injuries are. But I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Probably," Michael sighed, "and me worrying about it isn't going to do anything."

"No it isn't." Renee said, "So instead of that, why don't you tell me more about Mr. Martin's over ice cream."

"Are you paying?" Michael smirked, cheering up already.

"No, you are." Renee stated, "You wanna come too Robin? Michael's treat."

"No. I'm afraid I have too much paperwork piled up," Robin pointed to the office regretfully, "But why not ask Laith? I'm sure he'd love to join you."

"Laith?" Michael was confused for a moment before he remembered, "Oh that's his new name. No! You can't ask him! I don't have enough money! He's going to make me go broke and in debt before I'm even out of high school!"

Renee took pity on her friend, "Alright, alright. We won't ask him. Now c'mon before he gets here and tags along uninvited."

She dragged Michael by the arm out of school as she waved behind her. "Bye Renee! See you tomorrow! And don't tell Laith where we are, no matter what!"

**SPSPSPSPSP**

The two friends were seated face to face in the ice cream parlour, both nursing a chilling cup of ice cream sundae, courtesy of Michael. Renee was the first to break to silence. "So how did you ever get to be friends with Mr. Martin's anyways?"

"I was in grade 8." Michael began to answer, "I was going home one day when I found that my bike was completely ruined. Some idiot bullies who were bothering me that year did it. Anyways Mr. Martins found me trying to fix it, and failing, so he took it himself and put it back together in a matter of minutes with no trouble! In fact he made it even better than before! Like he added an engine to it and a little button that, when clicked, would sound like police sirens. That one really worked against the bullies."

Renee gaped. The bell thing was pretty smart but adding an engine to a 12 year old's bike...not normal. Renee voiced her astonishment.

"Yeah well, whatever. I never got hurt. Mr. Martins knew what he was doing. He always does. He can always fix something and always makes it better than before."

"Alright then," Renee shook her head in bafflement, "whatever you say Michael. But I still think that you being friends with the school janitor is weird."

"I'm also friends with a school secretary. And so are you as a matter of fact." Michael pointed out, "If that's not weird I don't know what is."

Renee raised her hands to admit defeat, "Yeah. Yeah. We both have weird friendships. That's that. Now answer me this, Laith? Why the hell would he choose a name like that?"

Michael laughed, "As if I know what's going on through his head. I mean. He's actually looking for a ship you know!"

"He is!" Renee laughed alongside Michael. "Why?"

"Laws-Laith really does want to go out on an adventure on sea apparently." Michael giggled, though he'd never admit to doing so, "Which we both know is impossible, but the idea is pretty cool."

"It is." Renee agreed, thinking about her dream of being a navigator.

The two friends grew silent, thinking about the futile possibilities of just running out to sea and screwing their lives and responsibilities on land. Michael had a far off glaze in his eyes, that just spoke of endless desires, when he said, "It'd still be pretty nice for us to have our own ship. We probably couldn't go anywhere far, but we'd be able to take it out around the bay and stuff."

"Yeah," Renee said dreamily, "We could just hang out there, and let loose. It'd be our own special place. Yours, mine, Laith's, Greg's, Charles', and Robin's. It'd be just for us."

"You can't forget about the other four." Michael pointed out.

"The other four?" Renee repeated, confused.

"Remember?" Michael urged, "Laith did say we needed ten crew members in total. And there's only six of us now."

Renee laughed, remembering Laith exclaiming that during the soccer try outs, "Yeah I remember. Okay then. The ship will be for the six of us and the other four as of yet unknown members of the crew. How does that sound?"

"Pefect." Michael grinned, "Just perfect."

Renee giggled at the stupidity of their conversation. Honestly, buying a boat of their own? None of them even had a boating license. But still...it was a possibility. Unreasonably happy, Renee returned to finishing her melting chocolate sundae. It was sweeter than she preferred but Renee really didn't mind for once.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the late (very late) update. I've been busy, lazy, uninspired and a lot of other things. But I'm back and I haven't given up. I'll update again tomorrow.<strong> **So please bare with me, I'll get the hang of writing consistently. I promise.**


	30. Misunderstandings & Miscommunications

If there was one thing Charles refused to cook, it was insects. It didn't matter how many times Laith begged him to make chocolate dipped beetles because they sounded interesting and so _must _be tasty, Charles would not go near the little monsters. His relationship with bugs was a long distance one, and both parties were perfectly fine with the arrangment. Therefore there should be no reason as to why Charles was being attacked by the horrifying demons at the moment.

"Get the hell away from me you filthy evil disgusting piece of soulless trash!"

It was a cockroack.

"I will kill you." Charles seethed.

The cockroach scuttled a little closer to where Charles was clutching the edge of the table. He screamed. It was a very manly scream.

The cockroach moved closer still and the door to the cafeteria's kitchen swung wide open. And lo behold it was Charles saviour! His superman! His very own knight in shining armour! His..._marimo_?

Shit, Charles thought to himself.

Greg guffawed loudly as he said, "Bugs. Really."

"Shut the hell up you stupid marimo!" Charles yelled.

"I ain't no marimo shitty cook!" Greg retaliated.

"You're hair is green and spiky. It looks like a ball of seaweed. Like. A. Marimo."

"AAAGHGH! Shut up you freaking bitchy fairy!"

Charles was furious, "You take that back shithead!"

Charles jumped from where he stood and landed a kick on the swordsman's chest. Greg easily recovered after a moments confusion and quickly drew his sword. He muttered darkly, "Oh you'll pay for that..."

The poor cockroach was completely forgotten while the two boys had their fun. It felt lonely and so crawled away into a hole in the wall. Some of his friends were playing poker, hopefully he'd be allowed to join in too.

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><p><strong>Poor cockroach just wanted to be friends with Charles. :'( Why don't you make the poor cockroach happy be reviewing. The cockroach loves reviews.<strong>


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